See, Hear, Speak No Evil
by Brinity
Summary: Introducing an original character immediately after Beside the Dying Fire, future love-interest for Daryl. Unfinished, feedback/ideas welcome.
1. Chapter 1

I lifted my head, trying to pinpoint an out of place sound. It was rhythmic, steady… Footsteps.

I turned to the west, toward the sound and froze. They weren't stumbling, or dragging, they were sure and even, quiet but, I could still tell they were there. And close.

I furrowed my brow. The dead shuffled more than they walked. Either this was a corpse in good shape or-

Suddenly an arrow imbedded itself in my shoulder, spinning me to the left, the propulsion causing me to fall to the ground. I touched the arrow with my right hand and felt warm, sticky liquid. I pulled my hand away and saw the red substance on my fingertips.

The air started to reek of copper. Suddenly a shadow fell over me and I looked up. A man had a crossbow aimed at me, a few feet from my head.

"Say somethin'." He growled.

I opened my mouth but no sound came out. He slowly lowered his crossbow. He took a step toward me and I stopped breathing.

"I'm gunna pull it out." He gestured toward the arrow. He kneeled down slowly next to me and put a hand on my shoulder. I flinched. He looked at my face and I stared back, blankly. His eyes travelled down to my waist.

"Take off yer belt." He said, nodding to my waist.

I cocked my head to the side.

He sighed and reached down and undid my belt clasp. I watched his hands work. I was feeling light headed. Eventually he had my belt in his hands and he was pulling it around my shoulder, above the arrow. He tightened it, watching my face for a reaction. I gave him none, just looked back at him. He put one hand on my shoulder and grasped the arrow tightly. He yanked hard, and then I forgot.

-

She was breathing softly. Her wound had stopped bleeding so much; I used the sleeve of my shirt as a bandage. I thought she was a walker, she was covered in blood and dirt, her hair was tangled and had sticks in it. But her eyes… They weren't bloodshot, they were huge and green.

She twitched on the ground; I took my hand and felt her forehead. It was warm to the touch but not feverish. The others were a little over a half mile away, Hershel could take better care of her.

In a flash she was no longer laying on the ground and there was something cold and metal against my neck. The girl was crouched next to me, holding me at knife point. She panted and surveyed her surroundings, confused.

"Ya' passed out," I said simply.

She whipped her head around to look at me and the knife was pressed harder to my throat. She glanced down at her shoulder, where the arrow had pierced her, then she looked at my one sleeveless arm and smirked.

There was a soft moan to our right and suddenly the metal was gone from my neck and a walker fell to the ground. I stood, grabbing my crossbow, assessing the situation. I walked toward the walker and saw a knife handle sticking out of its eye socket. I pulled the knife free and looked at the girl.

She was still crouched on the ground but looked less scared. I held the knife up, "Did ya' throw this?"

She nodded, _Yes._

"Can't ya' talk?" She shook her head. _No._

"Why not?" I asked.

She smacked the side of her forehead with the palm of her hand and shrugged_._

I didn't know what that meant but grunted and set the knife down at her feet. She grabbed it and wiped it on the pant leg of her jeans before putting if in what seemed to be a duct tape leg holster with several other knives.

"Follow me." I said, starting to walk back toward the temporary camp.

The girl glanced around the woods and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. I turned back around.

"We got a doctor, he can help ya." I said.

She bit down on her dirty lip, thinking. Then she shrugged and immediately winced, grabbing her shoulder and opening her mouth, but not crying out. I took a step toward her but she shook her head and motioned for me to go.

-

We walked in complete silence, it was mostly his choice. Usually when I met up with groups of people, it took a few awkward, mimed conversations before they gave up on communicating with me. But even if I was able to speak, I'm pretty sure this guy wouldn't have talked, anyway.

Eventually we came to the edge of the woods and the remains of a crumbling, stone house. About a dozen people in dirty clothes with sad, defeated expression were scattered around. A woman with short gray hair noticed my companion walking out of the woods and called out to him.

"Did you find any food?" She asked.

He shook his head, "Nah. The woods're pretty empty, walker's prob'ly been pickin' off animals."

The woman looked crestfallen, then saw me and gasped, "Daryl!"

The group grabbed various weapons, and started walking towards me. I took a step back towards the woods and the man who shot me, Daryl presumably, put his hands up in front of him.

"She ain't a walker. I shot her in the shoulder. She can't talk."

The group lowered their weapons and an elderly man stepped forward, wringing his hands.

"Miss, I'm Hershel, let me take a look at that wound." He said.

I glanced at Daryl who nodded toward the Hershel. I closed the distance between Hershel and I and turned my head to the right, so he could better see my shoulder.

"I, uh, pulled the arrow out. She passed out and the bleeding slowed. Walkin' probably started it up again." Daryl said, looking at the ground while addressing Hershel.

The rest of the people had paired off into groups and started whispering. I heard snippets of conversations and words like "safe", "dangerous", "farm", "Randall" and "food". Hershel pulled part of the cloth away from my wound and I took a sharp breath. He let it go and stepped back.

"He did an okay job, Miss; don't try to move it too much. I don't have any antiseptic or bandages so that'll have to make do."

I put my hands together and bowed at Hershel, _Thank you._

I glanced around, the group, unsure what to do with myself or where to go. A twig snapped behind me, in the woods and I spun around and crouched in one fluid motion. My knife was at the ready in my hand and I held my breath, waiting for something to come toward me. A boy of about 12 walked out of the woods and I straightened up and holstered my knife. He saw me and his eyes got wide.

"Dad!" He yelled and started pulling a gun out of the waistband of his pants.

"It's alright, Carl, she's not a walker. Where were you? Didn't I tell you to stay close?" One of the men walked over to the boy, scolding him and leading him by the arm, away from me.

"I was looking for food, Dad." Carl said.

Daryl perked up, "I'm gunna go back out there and hunt again." He loaded an arrow into his crossbow and started walking toward a road. Being the only person I knew and doing something I was skilled at, I followed him.

When I stepped onto pavement he turned around, "No, go back ta' camp."

I shook my head, _No._

"I ain't askin'. Yer' hurt, go back ta' camp."

I shrugged my shoulders and winced but didn't turn around.

"Can ya' even hunt?" He asked.

I nodded, _Yes._

"Like what?" His lip curled, making him look amused and not angry, for once.

I sighed and made antlers on my head with my hands. Then I motioned long ears and wiggled my nose. Then I mimed a long, fluffy tail and stuck my front teeth out. _Deer, rabbits, squirrel._

"We'll see." Daryl turned around and walked into the woods on the other side of the road. I followed, blushing slightly from my animal pantomime. I wished, for the millionth time, that I was able to talk again and regretted running haphazardly into that tree.

-

The hunting trip was a bust. The woods were eerily empty. The girl was pretty quick and light on her feet. She was quiet, for a woman, though it was probably 'cause she couldn't talk.

"Did you hunt everything out of these woods?" I asked, over my shoulder.

I waited for her to answer and then remembered she couldn't talk and turned around, slowing my pace. She was blushing and shook her head. I stopped walking.

"Where'd ya come from?" I asked. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a brown leather wallet. She opened it and handed it to me. On the right side, behind a plastic protector was her driver's license.

_Layla Anderson  
Reed Hall, 208  
105 Hooper St.  
Athens GA 30609-7700_

I handed the wallet back to her and glanced at her face. She was blonde in her license picture, with bright white teeth and freckles. Now every inch of her was covered in dirt and blood. Her hair was tangled and dark brown at the roots with leaves and twigs throughout. Her cheeks had dried dots of mud mixed with her freckles. There was a cut across her right cheekbone, about 2 inches; blood had dried, dripping from the gash.

She put her hands in the front pockets her jeans and shifted awkwardly under my gaze. I ran my hand through my hair, turned around and continued walking. I was surprised someone that had looked like her had survived.


	2. Chapter 2

When it started, it was just… a couple of weird stories on the news… And then it was so quick... Everything, it just happened. Two weeks later I'm at school and there was soldiers shooting people in the halls. They were shooting people, not the dead, people. Then the dead came through.

I thought about that time as I followed Daryl. I had been so scared, people were everywhere, trying to find loved ones, trying to avoid those who were already dead but, somehow, still mobile. And lethal. It's ironic, in the beginning, my instinct was to shun others. I kept quiet when I heard them, hiding for fear of infection. But after the initial outbreak, individuals seemed to seek each other out.

As I followed Daryl, I played a game. I thought about where I'd be and what I'd be doing if the world hadn't ended. If it was a Tuesday or Thursday I'd be in class. Or somewhere on campus, studying, eating, socializing. If it were Wednesday I'd be volunteering at the Athens Medical Center. Mondays and Fridays I interned at-

Leaves crackled in the woods and I stopped. Daryl kept walking, oblivious. To my right, something was taking slow, careful steps. I unsheathed a knife with a long blade and sighted just in front of the noise, waiting for my moment.

A fairly large deer steeped out, into my sights and perked his ears. I hurled my knife at it and it pierced its eye. It moaned, lifted it leg and dropped to the ground. Daryl whirled around in front of me and looked at the deer, through the crosshairs of his crossbow.

"You shoot that?" He asked, dropping the crossbow and looking at me. I nodded, _Yes._

Daryl walked over to the deer and dislodged my knife with a squelch sound. He held it out to me, handle first and I took it, wiped it on my pants and put it back on my leg. Daryl stood and grabbed the deer's legs and started lugging it back towards camp.

I stomped my foot, trying to get Daryl's attention. He didn't notice. He also didn't notice me clicking my tongue or waving my arms, just kept on walking. When I started clapping, he stopped and looked at me like I was crazy, dropped the deer's legs and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.

I pointed at the deer and mimed slitting my throat. Then I pointed at myself and walked over to the deer, and started pulling it. _I killed it; I'll bring it to camp._

"Don't be asinine, yer' hurt." He said, putting his hands on top of mine. I shook his hands off and stepped into his personal space, looking up at him.

I was taken aback by how blue his eyes were. He squinted down at me with wispy dirty blonde hair and a scraggly goatee and I glared up at him, starting to blush but didn't back down. About a million years later he scoffed and grabbed one front leg of the deer. "I'll help ya'." He said.

I nodded and grabbed the other leg and together we hauled the deer back to camp.


	3. Chapter 3

Camp was excited for the meat. Shouldn't have taken as long as it did to bring it to 'em but the girl was relentless. She held her own, though. A bit slower than me and sweating and panting and cradling her shoulder by the time we reached the others but we made it.

I unhooked my buck knife from my belt and looked at the girl, Layla. "Can I dress it?"

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, face red and sweaty from exhaustion and then nodded. _Yes._

Carol came over as I cut up the deer, standing a few feet away from the smell of blood and guts, "Nice hunting, Daryl."

"Wasn't me. Layla got it." I said, not stopping gutting, anxious for something to eat.

"Layla?" Carol asked, glancing at the girl who was watching me intently, about a foot away, moving when I did so her view of the deer was never blocked.

"Driver's license." I said simply.

Carol crossed her arms over her chest. "Huh. Thanks Layla."

I looked at the girl over my shoulder and she smiled at Carol. For a moment, she did resemble the girl from her license. White teeth stood out against the mud on her face and her green eyes seemed to sparkle. Then she looked back at me and she blinked, surprised that I was looking at her. She raised her eyebrows and nodded toward the deer, _Continue._

Later, over campfire roasted venison, I watched Layla lean against a brick wall, eating with her fingers, glancing every so often towards the woods. The others spirits had lifted with the fresh meat and were talking quietly, discussing where we should go. Rick hadn't interrupted then yet and told them where we would go.

I slowly walked around the circle of people around the fire and grabbed another handful of meet. I walked over to Layla and held it out to her. She took some and nodded her head at me, _Thanks._

"You hunt a lot before this?" I asked, watching her to try to guess her reply. She shook her head, _No._

"Could you talk before?" I asked, taking a bite of meat. She nodded, _Yes._

I nodded slowly, "Is it permanent?" She smiled humorlessly and shrugged, _I don't know._

"Wha' happened?" She looked at my face and sighed and then pointed to herself. She jogged in place and pointed at a tree. Then she smacked her head with her hand and pointed at her throat and shrugged. _I ran into a tree and hit my head and couldn't talk._

I noticed the others were silent and I glanced at them. They were all staring at the two of us and Hershel spoke up, "Concussion it sounds like. Brain damage, probably temporary. How long?"

Layla held up 3 fingers. "Months?" I asked. She nodded, _Yes._

Everyone was silent, imagining silence for 3 months. I stroked my chin, "Hell."


	4. Chapter 4

After dinner, the group let the fire die down. They huddled beside it, resting, talking in low tones. I slid down the brick wall where I had eaten and surveyed them. They weren't exactly accepting of me. Other groups I had been with were so eager to know me and call me their own. Although, the other groups I had been with had been slaughtered. Or worse.

The first group I met just outside of Athens, Georgia. I was still able to speak then; I had a backpack of canned goods, water, clothes and some personal mementos. My weapon was an aluminum bat I found lying in an alley. So far, I hadn't broken in my bat, yet, only using it to push away the dead and then running for my life.

I was hiding behind a dumpster when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was summer, the dead had been walking for a week or two and I was still so naive I was wearing denim shorts and a white tank top. I hadn't yet learned that bare skin was dangerous or that white is easily stained in an apocalypse. The hand on my shoulder made me jump and drop my bat. When I turned around, luckily it was a live woman, about 40, in a long skirt, a modest t-shirt, both brown, and long hair tied in a French braid.

She was very kind, her name was Annette and she told me she belonged to a larger group, one with supplies, staying in a safe place, free from "the demons". I was so relieved at the time, that someone was thriving during this dark time and that I was lucky enough to be invited join them I figured her demon reference was just colorful imagery.

Unfortunately Annette was recruiting for a religious cult.

Honestly, that first group of survivors I don't regret losing to the dead. Actually, the dead saved me from a sexist, controlling "prophet" and his congregation of brainwashed, all female followers. One woman was bitten and, surprisingly, the prophet's grace or magic or whatever didn't cure her. She went on a rampage and soon the entire group was dead or, dead but moving and I ran, climbing out a window and into the woods, nearby.

While running in those woods I looked over my shoulder, just for a moment, to make sure I wasn't being followed. I didn't even turn around all the way before I collided with a large tree, running at full tilt. Then I forgot.

I awoke, after my tree collision, stiff from lying crumpled on the ground, at the base of the tree. My head was throbbing, I attempted to sit up and my peripheral vision started closing in with black. My head fell back, my body shaking and sweating and I vomited. It was dark out, I had no idea how long I had passed out for. I slipped in and out of consciousness for a while, too weak to try to rise but also terrified I'd be eaten while I slept.

-

I was discovered in the daylight by a group of 2 men and a woman. One of the men was kneeling over me, opening one of my eyelids. It was at this point, I realized I couldn't speak. I opened my mouth to talk to him and nothing happened. I put my right hand to my throat, scared by the lack of any noise what so ever.

"Whoa, honey, what happened to you?" The man by me asked.

"Is she bit?" The woman asked, pacing nervously.

I shook my head and pain shot behind my eyes. The man put a hand on my cheek, stopping my head from moving, "Okay, you aren't bit, can you talk?" He asked.

I opened my mouth to talk again and nothing happened. Tears sprung to my eyes and I started breathing heavily, what was wrong with my voice? I silently cried as the man looked over my injuries. Eventually he turned to his counterparts.

"Aside from the voice and some bruises and dried cuts on her head, she's fine. Do we bring her with us?" He stood, looking seriously at the other two.

The other man crossed his arms and looked down at me, "We can't just leave her."

"Like hell we can't, she was doing just fine before we found her." The woman scoffed.

I wiped my tears away and slowly sat up. I could hear blood pounding in my ears and my head ached. I stretched my arms and legs out, joints popping. I used the offending tree for support and pulled myself into a standing position. Then I turned to the three and watched them deciding what to do with me.

Given the way of the world now, I couldn't blame them for being cautious. They found me sleeping in the woods, bloodied and dirty, wearing a long cream colored shirt and t-shirt and my hair in an old fashioned French braid, thanks to my old cult.

"Can you walk?" The second man asked me.

I nodded, _Yes. _

"Then follow us, we can't promise your safety, but, you can't stay here and it's harder to be alone." He said, ignoring the woman shaking her head and glaring at me.

I was with the group of three the longest, they were realistic, trying simply to survive, not seeking out survivors, not trying to save the world. Most of my survival skills they taught me. Or I learned from mimicking them, more like. Though we were a group, we spent no time getting to know each other. No one wanted to die and it was an unspoken rule that we wouldn't sacrifice ourselves for the others.

This is why I was here. And why I was alone.

After them, I met up with a bunch of women and children, about 15 people on a bus. There was no hope for their survival. They had no skills, couldn't kill the dead and didn't have much common sense. That group I left in the night after being with them for about a week. There was no way I could even begin save them and staying with them was certain death for me.

I also came across people I didn't join up with. They all wanted to know where I was headed, what the surrounding area was like, if I knew of any secure areas. I had no answers to any of these questions. And of course I couldn't tell them, even if I did. My silence earned guns being drawn on me more than once, survivors associating the ability to speak as proof of not being dead. Men especially were angered that I didn't answer when spoken to. It seemed the end of the world brings out old fashioned ideals.

This group was different from the others. There were men, women and children. As far as I could tell, two families and a couple. That was rare. I had only seen it once before, a husband and wife. The wife had seen her 2 kids ripped apart and wouldn't talk (by choice), eat or drink anything. They were part of a group heading north, toward Nebraska, looking for a railroad. The rest of the group had obviously given up on the woman, the husband was practically carrying her, she wasn't going to last much longer and I certainly didn't want to be associated with them when it was time for him to let her go.

This group seemed to be adaptable, they were on edge but used to each other, they had probably been together a while. Every person was armed, even the child, Carl. And Carl had had no problem aiming a gun at me, thinking I was dead. Daryl hunted for the group, he was very familiar with his crossbow, shooting me had been second nature to him.

Rick was obviously the leader. He looked as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Currently, he was circling the group, a beautiful pistol in his hand. He was checking on everyone and watching the perimeter.

I watched the remainder of the fire for a moment, weighing my options. This group had a doctor. A hunter. A strong leader. I'd joined worse. And I had proven myself to them, providing them with food. They hadn't invited me in, exactly. But I hadn't been kicked out.

Directly across from me, Daryl was also staring into the coals, sitting on a rock. Our eyes met for a second before he stood up and grabbed his ever present crossbow. He intercepted Rick, they talked for a moment in voices too low for me to hear, heads bent close together. Rick nodded to what Daryl was saying and Daryl walked away, right over to me.

"I'm gunna walk the perimeter of the woods, you comin'?" He asked.

I stood, cracked my knees and pulled out my smallest, serrated knife. Daryl was already at the edge of the woods, I hopped over the remnants of a wall and fell in step on his right side. He locked eyes with me over his shoulder and put a finger in front of his lips. The corners of my mouth pulled up into a smile. Daryl rolled his eyes in realization of what he had done and I started to laugh. It had been so long since I had laughed, I doubled over, laughing hysterically, clutching my stomach, body shaking.

"Alrigh', settle down." Daryl said, grinning, lopsidedly.

I put my hands on my knees and breathed deeply in and out for a minute before standing up and nodding at Daryl. He shook his head at me and walked deeper into the woods. I turned and watched our backs, listening intently as Daryl led us in a circle around the others. I hadn't joined their ranks in so many words but I was pretty sure I had won Daryl over. I wouldn't be out, taking him up on his offer if I hadn't.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl and I made two complete rotations around the camp with no problems. The woods were eerily empty and the remnants of the stone building blocked the light of the campfire and the sounds, if any, of the group. I looked to Daryl to see if he was going to lead us around again or return to the others and he dropped his bow and his ready stance. I followed suit, sheathing my knife and lowering my arms to my sides, left shoulder extremely stiff.

"I wanna show you somethin'" Daryl said, walking further into the woods, away from camp. I followed, curiously. He was leading me north and I tried to remember if I had seen anything of interest that way. We walked for about 10 minutes, Daryl not saying a word and not seeing any animals or dead.

Daryl turned around, suddenly, the wings on the back of his leather vest being replaced with the dangerous end of his crossbow. I took one more step toward him, not being able to stop in time and was mere inches from the tip of his arrow. He sneered at me in the miniscule moonlight and I raised my hands in front of me, showing him I was unarmed.

"Group don't take to strangers." He said, voice low and serious.

I was scared. Quite honestly, I was surprised. We had hunted together; did that really mean so little to him? I had fed him and his people. And I wasn't one usually very comfortable around people. Well, uncomfortable around people now that most of them were trying to eat me.

I motioned toward his crossbow and pointed to my left shoulder. _You shot me._

Daryl ignored me, or pretended not to know what I meant. "Last guy who threatened us? I tortured 'im with my bare hands." Daryl said.

I shook my head wildly. I wanted to tell him I meant them no harm. But I couldn't.

"'Nother guy, took 'im inta the woods, tousled with 'im, snapped his neck."

I gulped. The women and children had made me trust them, drop my guard. These people were crazy. I was an injured, mute girl, what threat could I pose?

"Whaddya want?" Daryl asked, poking me lightly with the arrow.

I shook my head and pointed again to him, then his cross bow, then my shoulder. _YOU shot ME!_

"You sure you can't talk?" Daryl asked. I nodded, _Yes._

"Let's see if you'll scream."

"Have you been in other groups before?" Rick asked calmly, crouching down in front of when I sat, my hands cuffed behind my back, about 15 yards from camp.

I nodded, Yes.

"How many?" Rick asked.

I sighed. He kept asking me non yes or no questions, to which I couldn't give answers, given the state of my hands.

"Right," He said, realizing his error. "Less than three?"

I shook my head, _No._

"Less than 5?"

I shook my head again, _No._

"Less than 8?" He asked.

I nodded and then shook my head, _Yes and no_.

"So 8, then?" He asked.

I nodded, _Yes._

"The one you were with the most recently, do they kill people? Raid supplies, rape women?" Rick asked.

I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. _Uh, no… _The last group I was with was hauled up in the cancer ward of a hospital. They were 3 cancer patients, the fiancée of one of the patients, a doctor and a teenage volunteer. I happened upon them while looking for supplies. They had a pretty good set up except that without power, the cancer was advancing and the patients were slowly dying while the other sat around helpless. It was heartbreaking.

"You ever see anybody do anything like that?" Rick asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I nodded, _Yes. _I'd seen a woman shot in the face for having a chiwawa who yipped at the wrong time, once. I'd seen tug of wars over supplies many times. An older woman once pried a child of about 4 off her leg and said, "I'm not your mother." The child burst into tears and a man slapped him across the face.

I'd never been associated with these people, just observed them or passed by on occasion, heading another way with a different group.

"You ever know anyone named Randall?" Rick asked.

I shook my head, _No._

"None of your groups ever had anyone named Randall?" Rick asked, sounding angry.

I shook my head again, _No._

Rick sighed and stood up. He walked over to the black guy, who was leaning against a nearby tree, with a hatchet in his hands. They shared a whispered conversion. The black man was getting obviously upset, baring his teeth and raising his voice. Rick leaned even closer and said something else before turning and walking away. The black man shook his head and called out to Rick, "Just let her go, man."

After Daryl had roughed me up and disarmed me, he dragged me back near camp and kept watch over me until sunrise. Then the black man, who Daryl had called "T" came to relive him for a while. Rick had brought handcuffs just for my interrogation, which lasted about half an hour.

I could probably overtake T. I was lighter, faster. I could kick out his legs and make a run for it. The cuffs were a different story. I could probably bring my wrists under and feet and have my hands in front of me, like they do in action movies. Or I could have, If I didn't have an arrow wounded shoulder and an entire upper body covered is fist and palm shaped bruises and tiny, "Jus' enough to bleed", knife cuts. And even with my hands in front I would never be able to get the cuffs off without the key from Rick.

At about noon, Rick came back. He walked over to me, pushed me forward a little bit and undid my handcuffs. I rubbed my wrists and looked up at him, leery of what would happen next. He ignored me and looked over at T. "We're packing up and leaving, going back to the vehicles on the road. We gotta find gas and keep moving. Daryl's been killing more walkers in the woods."

T rubbed the back of his head with one hand, looking overwhelmed by Rick's statement. Rick started to leave but T pointed the hatchet at him and yelled, "Hey! What do we do about her?" He jerked his free hand out toward me.

Rick narrowed his eyes at me. "We can't let her go."

"Man, she can't even talk to anybody! And we're going, ain't no place she can tell 'em we went." T said.

Rick turned around and kneeled down. "Layla, your voice is gunna come back and I can't risk my group. You know too much."

I nodded and pointed at Rick and mimed slicing my throat, _Are you going to kill me?_

"No." Rick said.

I pointed to T and mimed slicing my throat, _Is he going to kill me?_

Rick shook his head.

I pretended to pull an arrow out of a quiver on my back and pull back a bow string, _Daryl?_

Rick hung his head, "We aren't gunna kill you. We're just bringing you with us. Are you gunna have any problems?"

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. I had been through worse initiations. Once I had been stripped of my weapon and forced to kill a dead woman with my bare hands to prove my worth. Daryl's torture had been pretty superficial and Rick's interrogation was completely good cop.

Rick held his hand out to me and we stood up. I pointed to myself and pretended to throw a knife. Rick cocked his head to the side, not understanding. I pointed to the gun in his holster and put a hand on my chest.

"No, we aren't gunna kill you." Rick said, turning and leaving me with T.

I looked at T, and he shook his head, "I'm sorry about all this, ain't right." He said, also leaving me.

When I stepped into camp, everyone froze and looked at me. Rick and Daryl had been talking to each other and Daryl was obviously very heated. He was pacing back and forth, looking like a caged animal.

"Alright, we're going in two groups. Daryl, Hershel, Glen, T Dog and Layla, you're going first. You gotta be fast, grab the vehicles, drive down the road a little ways and pick up the rest of us. Everybody knows where the meeting spot is. We can't all load up the vehicles and leave with the herds of walkers around there Daryl has seen."

A girl of about my age kissed an Asian boy, starting to cry. He comforted her repeating, "It'll be alright."

Daryl snorted, seeing the embrace, "Let's go we ain't got much time."

T, Dog apparently, and myself followed Daryl's angry pace toward the woods and the Asian boy followed behind us, looking over his shoulder at the girl. Hershel followed the boy.

"T, you sure this is a good idea?" The boy, Glen, asked.

"Don't matter what I think, it's what we gotta do." T Dog said.

I quickened my pace so I was next to Daryl. I snapped my fingers a few times to get his attention.

"What you want?" He asked gruffly.

I patted my chest and pointed to my empty knife holster on my leg.

"No way. I ain't giving you a weapon." Daryl said, not slowing his pace.

There was no way I was facing the dead, unarmed. I had pushed my luck in the past and narrowly escaped. You could only win so many times before death caught up with you.

Daryl started walking more to the right, closer to me and I kicked his knees out from under him. He grip loosened on his crossbow and I threw it out of his reach. He landed hard on his back, and I straddled him while Glen and T Dog aimed their weapons at me.

I pointed at myself and slapped my leg holster, eyes determined. _I WANT a weapon._

Daryl breathed heavy, the wind probably knocked out of him, "FINE!" He yelled, putting both hands on my shoulders and pushing me off of him. Pain shot through my left side and I crumpled on the ground, hanging on to consciousness.

Daryl threw one of my knives on the ground near me and nudged my leg with his shoe, "Come on!"

I picked up my knife and looked up at Daryl, considering whether I should impale him through the eye. Hershel came to my right side and helped pull me up.

"You're bleedin' again," he said, frowning and my shoulder.

I shook my head and pointed my wrist, _We don't have time._

Hershel pointed at Daryl, "You don't hurt this girl again."

Daryl snorted, "Just following orders. Let's go."


	6. Chapter 6

We all crouched behind some trees, beside the road. I could see the vehicles but between us and them were about 20 dead, shuffling around. I glanced to my left and sized up the group. Glen and Hershel were probably our weakest links. And T Dog, which was a ridiculous name, had a bit of a soft side. Daryl, on my right, I knew could take care of himself.

I touched Daryl's shoulder and he flinched. I pointed at me and mimed throwing my knife many time and pointed at his crossbow, _I'll run out and kill them, you keep me covered._

Daryl shook his head, "I'm not givin' you more knives." He whispered.

I rolled my eyes and turned to Glenn. I pointed at myself, pointed to his machete, mimed decapitation and then smacked Daryl's arm as hard I could and mimed shooting a bow, _I'll run out and kill them with this, Daryl will cover me._

Glenn looked at Daryl. Daryl shrugged at him. Glenn gingerly handed me his machete and I tested the weight in my hands. I looked at Daryl and raised my eyebrows, _Ready?_

Daryl and I crawled away from the others and leaned against a guard rail. I look a few deep breaths and then Daryl grabbed my elbow, "You try an' run, I'll kill ya'." He said menacingly.

I shook his arm off me and stood up, running toward the closest dead, an elderly man walking on a foot turned all the way around. I cut his head off from behind and his body falling to the pavement caused a dead teenage girl to shamble over to me, wheezing. I brought the machete down on her head and her body slumped down and I used my foot to dislodge the machete.

A small group of three of the dead had wandered over to the corpse of the old man and were sniffing the air. With three solid thunks arrows appeared in their heads and they collapsed. I pulled the arrows out and threw them toward Daryl, still behind the guard rail. An overweight woman in a tattered muumuu reached toward me and I jumped away from her. I whistled at Daryl, who was loading another arrow. I sighed and slashed the machete at her neck.

She moved at the last second and she wasn't decapitated and the machete was stuck, halfway through her neck. I pushed her stomach but her mass was no match for mine and instead of being pushed away, she latched onto my left arm, my shoulder screaming in protest. I opened my mouth in a silent yelp and she pulled my closer to her huge, rotting body.

Daryl jumped the guardrail and grabbed the top of her head and shoved his knife in the base of her skull. Her grip on my arm loosened and I pulled my arm away. Daryl ripped the machete out of her neck and waved it toward me. I put my hand over his on the handle and he let go, stepping away from me and raising his crossbow in a fluid motion.

Two dead males approached Daryl and he shot one, I threw the machete in the left eye socked of the other. Both fell to the ground. A child stepped out from behind a suburban, growling and I threw my knife at it. He collapsed and I ran over and reclaimed my knife. As I hunched over the kid, the other 6 dead moved toward me. Arrows shot two of them and my knife impaled a third. I stepped back, unarmed and Daryl threw the machete on the ground next to me. I decapitated the closest dead woman but the other two were too close together for me to fight them hand to hand. I ran back a little ways and threw the machete at one of the dead and the other tripped over its lifeless body, trying to reach me. Daryl ran up to it, stabbed it in the back of the head and started grabbing arrows and my knives.

T Dog, Glenn and Hershel climbed over the guard rail and started pulling out keys to vehicles. Hershel put a hand on my lower back and tried to lead me to a suburban but I shook him off and walked over to where Daryl was giving Glenn back his machete. I held out my hand for my knife and Daryl shook his head. I stomped my foot and he laughed, "No fuckin' way."

I started shaking with anger and slapped his cheek as hard as I could. His head turned to his right and he was still for a second before grabbing the top of my head and putting my own knife to my throat. I noticed the red imprint of my hand on his cheek and I looked into his eyes. He pushed my head and I stumbled back a few steps before falling onto the butt on the pavement. He threw my knife by my feet and then emptied the pockets of his leather vests and tossed my other knives at me. Then he turned around and got on a motorcycle and revved in twice before making a U turn and driving in the opposite direction.

I scrambled to pick up my knives as T-Dog and Glenn drove past me. I stood up and got into the back seat of the suburban Hershel pulled up next to me. He sped a little bit to catch up to the others and then he chuckled and said over his shoulder to me, "I expect this isn't the first time you've been hurt."

I shook my head, looking at him in the rear view mirror, _No._

"Maybe you wouldn't be so bad off if you stopped provoking him." Hershel said, pulling onto the side of the road, where the others were picking up the second half of the group.

I shrugged with my right shoulder and touched my arrow wound. It was bleeding really bad now, exacerbated by Daryl and that walker. I felt a little bit dizzy and I laid my head back on the seat. The youngest girl opened the door next to me and gasped. She stepped back and looked at Hershel, "Daddy?"

"She's fine, Bethy, just get in up here." He said.

She shut the door and climbed in the passenger side. Glenn and the older girl opened the back passenger door and both looked at me. Glenn started getting in first but the girl stopped him.

"She's hurt, let me see her shoulder. She climbed over Glenn and put her hand on my forehead.

"Daddy, she's burning up." She said.

Hershel turned the suburban back on and Glenn got in and shut the door. Hershel drove over by Rick and waved him over to his window.

"Rick, the girl is hurtin'. We need some aspirin and some bandages. Rick shook his head,

"We need more fuel. If we find supplies, good but we ain't going nowhere without fuel." He said.

Rick walked back over to the SUV and climbed in the driver' door. He waved at Daryl who made another U turn and started driving his insanely loud motorcycle back the way we came. Daryl glanced up me through the window, expression impassive as Maggie pressed material to my left shoulder.

I shook my head and closed my eyes. Somehow, Daryl driving a motorcycle during the apocalypse made perfect sense.


	7. Chapter 7

I woke up at dusk. I didn't remember falling asleep but I could recall the wooziness that loosing so much blood had brought me. The suburban was idling with the headlights on, illuminating Rick and T Dog syphoning gas from a silver compact car. The car's trunk was open and there was broken glass all over the road between us and them, reflecting our high beams like little diamonds.

I was probably still a bit out of it from reopening my wound.

I shifted in my seat and a hand pressed against my forehead. I stiffened and Hershel's older daughter put her head in my line of vision. She felt each of my cheeks and put her hand on my left shoulder and the makeshift bandages over my wound.

"How're you feelin'?" She asked, gingerly pulling the bandages off.

I winced and closed my eyes, waiting for her to prod the tender area and cause me more pain. Thankfully, it didn't come, she replaced the bandage and stuck her head up between the front seats.

"The bleedin's pretty much stopped." She said, addressing Hershel.

"And the fever?" He asked, turning in his seat to look at her.

"Broke. We could use some bandages, though. She bled through what we had." She sat back in her seat and Glenn put an arm around her.

"I'm Maggie by the way." She said, addressing me. I nodded and pulled my trusty wallet out, showing her my battered ID.

She squinted in the light and nodded as she read; Glenn reached out behind her and tilted it so he could read.

"Student." Glenn said and I put my wallet back in the back pocket.

I nodded, _Yes._

"Can you show me what you were studying?" Glenn asked.

I tilted my head. There wasn't an action for undeclared major. I was probably going to be a medical transceptionist. My volunteer work was in the medical field. My internship was as an assistant to an assistant to the head of something in a large, multinational company. Basically, I was very experienced at ordering coffee or takeout and making copies.

I pretended to pick up a phone and then type on a keyboard. Then I made a square with my hands to represent a cubicle. Secretary was probably as specific as I could get.

Glenn and Maggie nodded but I was pretty sure they couldn't decipher my charade. We all turned, awkwardly, and stared out the front of the suburban again, watching Rick and T Dog cap a second gas can.

Rick stood and walked over to the driver's side of the suburban. Hershel rolled down the driver's side window and Rick leaned inside, reeking of gasoline.

"Third raid and as much fuel as we can carry. It's getting dark soon; we better find a place to camp for the night." Rick said.

"I had a thought about that. There's a forest reserve up this road a ways, maybe half an hour or so. Got a ranger station, runs on a generator, they'd have supplies." Hershel said.

Rick nodded slowly, "Alright, let's head out.

-

In the ranger station, by the glow of the wood burning fireplace, Carol was smiling broadly at me. She had found the medical stash, digging in the cupboards. I had found nothing but dull butter knives and packets of condiments in the drawers.

"There's gauze, bandages, a sling." She said, rifling through different white packages.

I grinned and tossed a ketchup package on the counter in front of her. She looked at me quizzically and pointed to the drawers and shrugged. _It was in there._

"I don't think there're enough of these to mask the taste of squirrel." She said, chuckling.

At that, Daryl looked up from the darkest corner of the room where he was cleaning four squirrels he had hunted in the woods. He scowled and I wrinkled my nose and tossed a ketchup package by his feet. He shook his head and went back to skinning.

The ranger cabin was an excellent idea on Hershel's part. The windows had sturdy, wooden shutters, and even if they didn't, they were very small and few and far between. There was a fireplace, a few weapons chained on a rack, medical supplies and various chairs and cots all over. The woods were fairly deserted; even so, Rick was outside, keeping watch.

T Dog was cooking the first of Daryl's squirrels over the fire. Lori, Maggie and Beth were arranging chairs and taking stock of blankets and pillows from a storage room. Glenn, Hershel and Carl were dismantling the weapons cache. Carol and I raided the large wooden cabinets by the front door and were then going to rummage around in the third and final room of the cabin, the first and second being the main area and storage, an office.

And there was a bathroom. A clean, sanitary, working bathroom with running water. There was a standard toilet and sink but most importantly, a tiny shower in the corner. Hershel was right about the generator, too. It provided the whole station with electricity and hot water.

The group had agreed to get the cabin in order before we started taking showers. Rick wanted us to have an idea of what was useful in the cabin right away, in case we needed to leave in a hurry. I sincerely hoped we wouldn't be forced out of the cabin by the dead, I was practically salivating, thinking about bathing again for the first time in… Weeks.

"'Bout time to go through the office." Carol said.

I nodded, _Yes._

The office was incredibly dull, the only useful item being an ornate letter opener and a Swiss army knife. Despite our pathetic haul, Carol was obviously in a good mood, smiling and joking with me while searching, despite the fact that I couldn't respond. The group's spirits seemed to be quite high after arriving at the cabin.

Except for Rick and Daryl, that is. Daryl seemed to be constantly grimacing and Rick kept running his hands through his hair and over his face. He smiled, over dinner, when Carl spoke to him but it didn't reach his eyes. Everyone was surprisingly talkative while we ate, which was a drastic change from the night before where my pantomimes had been the focus of everyone's attention.

I glanced over at Daryl and remembered our hunt together; the questions he asked that he genuinely seemed interested in the answers. I frowned realizing that he had been trying to gauge my threat level to the group. During his treatment of me last night into early this morning, he had asked me more questions, similar to the ones Rick had asked civilly. Daryl hadn't waited for me to show him my answers, though; he had threatened me and proved he could follow through if I did mean the group harm.

I blinked once to clear my head of the unpleasant memories and Daryl was staring directly at me. I blushed and looked away; tucking my feet under my body in the beat-up armchair I was sitting in.

"You want some more, Layla?" T Dog asked, holding out a plate of squirrel to me.

I patted my stomach and shook my head, smiling, _No, I'm full._

"You can shower first, and then Hershel'll patch you up." Rick told me, taking a piece of squirrel from T Dog.

I nodded and bowed to Rick, _Okay. Thank you._

Daryl was between me and the bathroom, while passing him I chanced a look and he was eating with one hand and staring at my intently. I entered the bathroom, locked the door and sighed. I had not missed the intricacies of social interactions while I had been between groups.


	8. Chapter 8

I used to be a pretty high maintenance girl. I secured a pretty good scholarship for grades and extra curriculars so my parent's college fund had helped me develop some different, somewhat expensive interests. Hobbies that were an investment in myself. Things like manicures, pedicures, waxing, tanning, hair appointments, professional teeth whitening, facials, massages…

The old me would never have recognized me now. I stood naked in front of the small mirror above the sink and barely recognized myself. I was covered in dirt and cuts and blood. A small fraction of the blood was mine. Most was not. There seemed to be leaves and twigs and grass everywhere. My hair resembled Captain Jack Sparrow from the Pirates of the Caribbean. Except the various things matted in my hair were not on purpose, nor were they aesthetically pleasing.

How in God's name was I ever going to untangle months' worth of ill repair? I had a professional photo shoot done to be in a hair stylists resume, once. My hair had been cut and colored and teased and styled, every day. Even while sweating at the gym. Or visiting the smoothie bar at the gym, more like.

I kneeled down and found my favorite knife with the etched handle. I took a lock of my hair and cut, a couple inches from the scalp. No amount of bathing could salvage my prize possession; I just needed to cut my losses, literally.

-

Layla stepped out of the bathroom about a million years after she went in. I was first up to be on watch so I had second dibs on the bathroom. I stood up straight from where I had been leaning against the wall and grunted, "Finally!"

She flinched, surprised, and moved out of the way. She was dressed in some baggy olive colored cargo pants and a blaze orange long sleeve thermal shirt. Various knife handles were sticking out of her many pockets and her left arm was in a black sling.

The most radically different thing was her hair, which was about 2 inches long and was now almost completely brown with a few blonde tips. A few pieces were standing straight up, mostly in the front of her head. "You cut your hair." I said, surprised.

She nodded and put her right hand on her head and twisted a lock of hair around, _Yes, it was tangled._

Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy like she had been crying. 'Course a girl would bawl over a haircut. Although it had to be hard to look like she did on her driver's license, once and now chop her hair off with the same knives she throws at and kills walkers with.

"More practical." I said and walked past her, into the bathroom and closed the door.

-

Hershel was sitting in front of the fire with his feet on a small stool. I clicked my tongue to get his attention and she shifted in his seat to look up at me.

"Ah, your bandages." He said. He set both of his feet firmly on the floor.

I nodded and kneeled down on the floor next to him, _Yes._

I had a few bandages and some alcohol wipes resting on top of my left arm, in my sling. I took them out and placed them on the stool Hershel's feet had vacated. I pulled the collar of my newly acquired thermal shirt down so he could see the wound. I had put a small bandage over it while bathing, he gingerly pulled it off.

"Your hair's different." Hershel said, wiping my arrow hole with an alcohol pad.

The alcohol burned and I sucked in my breath and tried not to move. I nodded quickly and attempted to ignore the sting through my shoulder, _Yes._

"You're lucky, you know. Arrow didn't penetrate too far, got pulled out at the same angle it went in, didn't open the wound up, more," Hershel nodded as he talked and deftly bandaged my shoulder, "Any bigger and you'd need some stitches. There. Now, don't move it too much."

I sat back on my heels and nodded, smiling, _Yes. _I put my right hand, palm out up to my chin and pulled it down to my chest level in an arc motion, the only actual sign language I knew, _Thank you._

-

It was going to be a harsh winter. The nights were getting pretty cold and it would only get worse. I rubbed my bare right arm, trying to shake off the cold and stay alert. But she was everywhere. The reason my right arm was cold was because I had ripped my sleeve off to use as a bandage. When I shot her. And first met her.

The door to the ranger's station closed slowly and quietly. Layla stepped out, into the moonlight. Her hair took me by surprise, again. A whole section on the right side of her head was standing up, like she had run her hand through it and it just stayed.

She was just staring out into the woods, completely still. Eventually, her upper body rose and fell in a silent sigh and she pulled a meat clever out of her sling. In spite of myself, I grinned. She didn't have a clever when I striped her of her weapons, yesterday, she must've found one in the station, commandeered it and was storing it on top of her injured arm.

Layla narrowed her eyes at the closest tree. Then she squared her feet and hurled the knife. She walked forward and retrieved the knife. She repeated the process over and over, hitting practically the same spot every time. In time with her knife throws I took one step at a time, crunching through dried leaves to get a better view of her. After three steps she froze, her arm above her head, about to let the clever fly.

I put her in the sights of my crossbow, waiting. She turned on her heel, knife still above her head, saw me and slowly lowered it. Then she bent down and placed it on the ground. She gave it a small nudge away from her, with her foot, and raised her right hand, in the universal sign of being unarmed.

"Watcha doin?" I asked

She pointed to the knife and pointed to the tree, _Practicing._

"New knife?"

She smiled, rolled her eyes and nodded, abashed, _Yes._

"You shouldn't be unarmed out here." I said and dropped my crossbow to my side.

Layla furrowed her brow and pointed at me, then she pushed her right arm out in front of her and put her hand on her chest, then she pulled a knife out of her back pocket, _You pushed me over these._

"Rick trusts ya'." I said, looking at the ground. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" I glanced up at her to interpret her response.

She put her hand on her chest, then closed her eyes and tilted her head and then mimed steering at 12 o'clock with her right hand, _I slept in the car._

I nodded. She was easy to talk to. Or talk at, I guess. She wasn't like the other women in the group; I couldn't imagine her worrying about washing laundry for one thing. And that probably explained how she looked when I shot her.

"Ya' ever go campin' before?" I asked, leaning against the corner of the ranger's station.

She shook her head, _No._

_ "_Ya' ever want to?"

Layla's green eyes locked onto mine, she raised one eyebrow lowered the other and pursed her lips, all in one fluid movement. Her expression obviously said, 'Are you kidding me'? She had to have done it before, when she was just a normal girl and could still talk. Even though she slipped into this facial expression so easily, it seemed foreign on her to me. Complex, compared to nodding and smiling.

-

"Layla, honey."

Someone was shaking my shoulder. My head lolled back and forth and I opened my right eye, unwilling to fully wake up. Lori was kneeling beside me with a bowl full of tan mush in her hand.

"Breakfast is ready. Why were you sleeping against the wall?" Lori stood up and walked back over to the fireplace, setting the mush bowl next to other much bowls on the floor.

I scratched my head; I was about a foot away from the door, my back against the wall. I honestly didn't remember falling asleep there. Usually I liked to curl up in closets or under tables. Someplace that offered me a shred of protection against the dead finding me while I slept. The last thing I did remember was walking over to Daryl and leaning against the corner of the ranger's station with him. He made small talk by asking me simple questions and I shook my head or nodded.

I must have felt tired and headed inside and collapsed. Because the prospect of Daryl bringing me inside was crazy. He had shot me, cut me and pushed me, caring for me was too strange to consider.


	9. Chapter 9

Layla plopped down to breakfast still half asleep. Her hair was standing up at crazy angles, all over her head, and her eyes were swollen. The rest of the group was sitting on various chairs, stools and surfaces. Glenn and Carl were the only other ones sitting on the floor. It was silent, except for the sounds on chewing and plastic spoons clinking plastic bowls. Carl glanced sideways at Layla as she drank her oatmeal down like the milk from a cereal bowl. She caught his eye and winked at him. He smiled and looked away.

The group was still pretty shaken up after being driven off the farm. We hadn't had a meal this silent since… Probably since we lost Sophia. Layla wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and Lori rose from her chair to pour some more slop for her. A bowl was held out next to my face and Lori refilled it for T Dog. She held the bowl out to me and I shook my head.

I went back to watching Layla but she was already looking at me from the corner of her eye. She blinked a few times and ducked her head down, her cheeks starting to tinge pink. Her oatmeal was downed in record time and she scrambled up, awkwardly, using only one arm for balance. She shut herself in the bathroom and I went outside, chuckling at how easily she was unnerved.

Rick stepped outside behind me, firmly closing the door.

"What do you think?" He said, putting his hands on his hips.

"'Bout what?"

"About this place? Generator, water, food…" Rick said.

"S'Okay for righ' now. Ain't gunna last forever. We're out in tha' open." I said, pointing out into the woods.

Rick hung his head and nodded thoughtfully.

"It'll be good while it lasts." Rick said and walked back to the ranger's station.

-

For two days, Daryl and I didn't speak. Well, technically we never spoke. No, I'd never spoken to him. In any case, we had not had a one sided conversation since the night I fell asleep and magically ended up in a hallway the next morning. In some strange, nonsensical way, I missed him. The others were so different. They seemed to go out of their way to pretend we could converse like normal.

They had absolutely no idea the words I was trying to convey to them.

I'm sure they tried their best but, in the end, they just smiled and nodded. Pretending to get me. Being pandered to was a million times worse than being silent.

Daryl never misunderstood me. And he didn't simply ask me yes or no questions, either. It was strange how probably the least educated person in the entire group was the most perceptive to my makeshift speech.

Right now he was leaning against a tree, his crossbow comfortably in one hand, resting on his right thigh. There was a long piece of grass in his mouth and he was staring off into the distance, possibly keeping watch, possibly day dreaming.

He looked… Handsome. Rugged.

I shook my head and squeezed my eyes tight. What the hell was I thinking?

-

There was a stream in the opposite direction of the road. Daryl had found it. Carol and I were silently washing clothes. She had been scrubbing my old shirt for the better part of an hour. I wanted to tell her to give it up but she her face was so concentrated, I let her continue.

I heard a soft thump to my right. I dropped the pants I was ringing out, down onto my lap and drew a small knife from the right hand pants pocket. I pivoted my body on the stump I was sitting on the waited.

A dead male staggered around a tree, reaching one arm toward Carol and me. The other arm was missing, only a tattered short shirt sleeve flapping in the breeze. I threw my knife but he tripped at just the right instant for my blade or impale itself on the top of his head, not hitting his brain.

An arrow sprouted from his left eye socket and he fell to his knees, slowly dropping his one arm down to his side before finally, falling to the ground.

"Oh!" Carol said, jumping up from the log she had been sitting on, putting her hand to her mouth.

Daryl was a few feet behind her, loading another arrow into his crossbow.

"You okay?" He asked.

I nodded, _Yes._

Carol was shaking and started gathering up the clothes.

"I'm gunna finish up at the house." She said, briskly walking back to the cabin.

Daryl nodded and watched her until the cabin door closed behind her. Then he turned to me.

"You missed." He said.

I shrugged and rolled my eyes, _Whatever._

"You getting' rusty?" He asked.

I snorted through my nose and shook my head, _No._

"You wanna go huntin'?" He went over to the newly dead corpse. He kicked him onto his back and freed his arrow and then my knife. He held it out to me and raised his eyebrows.

I nodded my head, _Sure._

-

Layla led us through the woods, a large knife in her hand, her knees slightly bent, head on a swivel, looking and listening for movement. She had killed 3 squirrels and I had killed a rabbit. Blood had dried on her hand from helping me field dress the animals. She had been pretty good before but she watched me very eagerly and from the few cuts she made, one handed, she was getting better.

"Hey." I said.

She stopped and turned around, still somewhat hunched over in a hunting stance. There was a smear of blood across her check and nose, probably from an errant itch while we were cleaning our kills. I grabbed my red rag from my back pocket and held my hand out to her.

"Come 'er."

She straightened up a little bit and look small steps toward me. She lowered her knife to her side but didn't loosen her grip. She stopped about 6 inches from me, looking up at me through her eyelashes. It was something I'd never seen her do before, though she often had exaggerated movements and expressions to make up for her lack of words.

Layla put her hand, still clutching her knife, on my shoulder. She smiled and looked down at the ground shyly.

Then Layla lunged forward and kissed me, firmly pressing her lips against mine, standing on her tip toes.

I opened my eyes wide in surprise for a second, and then I leaned down toward her and put a hand on her hip. She opened her mouth the smallest fraction and tilted her head.

A walker roared at us from about 20 feet away. He was limping but going downhill so he had some pretty good speed. I pushed Layla to the side and impaled him in the middle of his forehead with an arrow from my crossbow. Layla walked over to him and nudged him with her shoe. His head fell to the side and she pocketed her knife and removed my arrow. She gave me a small smile and held the arrow out to me. I took a step forward, ignoring the arrow and touched her bloody cheek with my bloody hand.

Layla stiffened and looked in the direction the walker had come. I didn't hear anything, yet, but I could smell decaying flesh. More than just the dead guy at our feet. Layla bit her lip and I took my arrow back, reloaded it and starting quickly walking in the direction of camp. Layla followed, her right arm swinging unnaturally to make up for the lack of left arm to balance her.

A female walker stumbled down the hill behind us and screeched. I started jogging and Layla picked up her pace. We weren't far from camp, but, that also meant these walkers weren't far from camp, either.

*Author's Note: A big thanks to everyone who's read, commented, favorite and followed my story. I apologize for the sporadic posting but I'm not exactly sure in which direction I want to take this. I had the idea for the character (And her not medically possibly problem) and I know I'll end up at the prison eventually but in the meantime, any ideas and feedback would be greatly appreciated. 3


	10. Chapter 10

Daryl reached the vehicles first; he turned and held his hand out to me. I grabbed it and he pushed me towards the house.

"Go! Go! Go!" He yelled.

I burst through the door taking everyone by surprise. I opened my mouth to yell at them and nothing came out. I mimed slitting my throat and pointed outside frantically. _The dead are outside!_

Rick peered out of the door behind me. Daryl called out to him, "Hurry up!

"Move, everybody move!" Rick yelled running back inside and grabbing a rifle. T Dog ran outside and Lori and Carol gathered up the clean clothes and the bedding they had been folding. Maggie and Beth started stuffing food into some hiking backpacks.

"How much time do we have?" Rick asked, grabbing my arm.

I shook my head, biting my lip.

"Here, hold 'em off." He thrust the large gun into my hand and I opened my mouth to protest but he was already gone.

I sprinted outside where Daryl and T Dog had formed a firing line. A pile of dead corpses littered the edge of the woods. Daryl glanced at the gun I was holding skeptically.

"You know how to use that?" He barked.

I shook my head, _Hell no._

He grabbed the gun from me and pushed a set of keys into my stomach. I took the keys and he jerked his head toward his motorcycle.

"Start her up, get ready to go." He said, sighting in an elderly woman, attempted to claw her way over the fallen dead.

I ran over to the motorcycle and ran my fingers through my hair; I knew less about bikes than I did about guns. Did I… Step on it?

Daryl shoved my out of the way and hoisted one leg over the bike, he started it effortlessly looked at me expectantly.

"Come one!" He yelled.

I opened my mouth and shook my head. _I don't know how…_

Daryl pointed back at the vehicles and I saw doors slamming and engines starting. The dead were only paces away from the others and I had no time to get in another car. Daryl unshouldered his crossbow and shoved it toward me. I put it around myself, the opposite way of my sling and timidly slid onto the motorcycle behind Daryl. He grabbed my right arm and wrapped it around himself yelling; "Hold on!" over the roar of the engine.

My fingers dug into his lean stomach muscles which I would have thoroughly enjoyed if the bike hadn't lurched forward, accelerating quickly away from the reek of the dead. I buried my head between Daryl's shoulder blades, eyes shut tight, trying to ignore the fact that were hurtling, at dangerous speeds, away from certain death with absolutely no protection from the elements but a crossbow on my back and pockets full of knives.

-

Daryl pulled off the main road at a scenic overlook. We hadn't seen any dead in a while and the group needed to regroup after our hurried escape from the ranger's station. Daryl put his feet down on the ground and walked the bike to a stop before cutting the engine and toeing down the kick stand.

I had, surprisingly, gotten used to the whipping wind and the vibration of the motor and the lack thereof was stark and sudden. Daryl climbed off the bike on the left and held his hand out to me. I tilting my body and put my right hand in his, smiling and blushing at his chivalry.

Daryl pulled his hand out of mine and held it back out to me with more force. I raised my eyebrows, confused and he pulled on the strap of his crossbow, over my shoulder. I blushed deeper and quickly striped myself of the crossbow and thrust it into his hands.

The other vehicles doors were opening and I could hear people getting out onto the loose gravel. I prayed to God no one saw my embarrassing assumption. I leaned back, still sitting on the bike and the handle bars shifted.

Daryl shot forward, steadying the bike and I jumped off.

"Jesus, careful!" He snapped, adjusting the park job. I walked away from him, toward the others, staring intently at the ground.

"What the hell happened back there?!" Rick barked, brushing past me to confront Daryl.

"What you mean?" Daryl asked, stepping away the bike, puffing out his chest.

"The walkers. You lead them to us? We were just fine until you went off into the woods, 'hunting'." Rick said, looking up at Daryl through his eyelashes.

"'Jus' fine'? I been killin' walkers every day! The herd knew we were there, headed straight for us!" Daryl yelled, throwing his hand out to emphasize his point.

Hershel held his hands up in front of him, "Regardless! The place is gone now, overrun, we need a new plan."

Everyone nodded and murmured in agreement. Daryl paced back and forth, throwing angry glances at Rick.

Rick stared down at the ground and put his hands on his hips, "Yeah…" He slowly looked back up at the group, "Any ideas?"

I looked around and then raised my hand.

Rick nodded at me, "Layla?"

I pulled at the collar of my shirt and then rubbed my belly. Then I made my finger a gun shape.

Rick shook his head, "I don't know what you're saying."

I glanced at everyone else and they were staring at my blankly. I sighed.

"Supplies. She says we need supplies. Restock." Daryl said from the edge of the group.

"Yeah, that's good. Where?" Glen asked, arm around Maggie's shoulders.

Maggie looked up, "Someplace with lots of different stuff. A mall or a megastore…"

"You don't think they already been picked clean?" T Dog asked.

Rick nodded his head slowly, staring thoughtfully at the ground. I looked at Daryl, trying to catch his eye. He furrowed his brow when he noticed me looking at his and I made my finger a gun again and pulled out a hunting knife from one of my pockets.

"Sporting goods store." He said slowly, interpreting for me.

"No, that's where everyone went first." Carol said, "My husband, he speeded there, stocked up…" She trailed off and wrapped her arms around herself. Lori put her arm around her and rubbed her shoulders.

I nodded emphatically at Daryl. He looked at me like I was crazy. I mimed slitting my throat and held up my hand as a gun, again. Daryl shook his head. I pointed at all of us people and then glanced around with big doe eyes and mimed slitting my throat. Then I did a dead shuffle, holding an arm out to him like the dead.

"She's righ'!" Daryl exclaimed.

"About what?!" T Dog asked, "I sure as hell ain't going to no overrun sporting goods store."

"That's the point," Rick said slowly, looking at me with a small smile, "Right Layla?"

I nodded, _Yes._

"No one goes into stores because of the walkers." Rick explained, "They're guarding the supplies."


	11. Chapter 11

**Jed's Sports World.**

Rick, T Dog Daryl, Glen and I sat idling in the Hyundai. Down the uniformed, connected Main Street, the building was off by itself, blaze orange with targets painted on the windows. I rolled my eyes. Could there be a more redneck store?

"I heard a' this place. Got good boots." Daryl said solemnly. I glanced over at him with raised eyebrows.

"What?" He asked, looking around shiftily. Daryl's sudden love of footwear was amusing, I grinned and, from the trunk, Glen chuckled. Daryl looked menacingly over his shoulder at him and Glen coughed.

"Alright," Rick said, turning to us in the driver's seat. "The front doors look secure but there's some movement inside. There's gotta be a loading dock, something we can barricade. Then we'll bust out the front and run for the vehicle."

"Stay tight, watch each other's backs." Daryl said.

Rick parked the car half up the sidewalk, behind one of the tiny trees lining Main Street. We all got out, firmly shut our doors. I went around to the back and popped the hatch, letting Glen out. He had volunteered to not ride smushed between Daryl and myself. I needed the window seat because of my sling arm/bum shoulder and Daryl gave Glen and I a death stare that pretty much summed up his reaction to riding on the hump.

We all unsheathed our weapons and T Dog put his hand to the sky in a silent prayer. I glanced at Daryl who was narrowing his eyes at a nearby alley. I snapped my fingers and he looked over at me. I pointed at his shoe and gave him a thumbs up sign, _Nice shoes._

"Shut up." He said, his neck turning red. I smiled, proud of myself for riling him up.

Rick gave a low whistle and whispered, "Daryl, Layla, take the rear. Glen, T Dog, watch our sides. I'll bust the back door." I nodded.

"I wanna check tha' alley." Daryl pointed to the offending street with his crossbow.

"You want back-up?" Rick asked.

"Jus' Layla."

I shrugged and followed Daryl toward the alley. He leaned, flush against the blue siding of a jewelry store and then turned suddenly, entering the street. I turned the corner, butcher knife at the ready.

The alley was dark, trash was scattered around but completely empty. Daryl kept walking over to a large, green roll off dumpster and cleared the side. I followed, unsure why he was so cautious when there was obviously nothing here. He set his crossbow down gently on the ground and I sheathed my knife in my sling again. He looked at me, head tilted to the side and I shrugged, _Nothing._

Daryl put his hands on my forearms and pushed me against the wall, beside the dumpster. I gasped slightly in surprise and he shoved his tongue in my mouth. He tightened his grip on my arms as he attacked me with a wet, frantic kiss. I had left my eyes open, taken aback by the forceful display of affection. Daryl eyes were screwed tight and there was a blush on his neck and high on his cheek bones.

Just as suddenly, he pulled away, staring at my lips. He ran one dirty finger over my bottom lip before letting my arms go and grabbing his crossbow and striding out of the alley.

I practically slid down the wall, now that Daryl wasn't pinning me up, panting and weak in the knees. Daryl whistled at me at the mouth of the alley, scowling. I jogged back to the group, praying the others would think nothing of my newly bruised lips or Daryl's adorable blush. The blush that **I **gave him.

"Nothing?" Risk asked.

I shook my head and Rick nodded, "Let's go."

-

Jed did not, in fact, have a loading dock. He had a set of double doors, barely enforced. Very little protection for Daryl's beloved shoes. Rick had broken one of the door handles off and both doors swung inward. Glen and T Dog moved some large sized boxes in front of the doors and Daryl and I stepped further into the storeroom. Rick clicked on a flashlight and illuminated the place, better.

There were shelves going all the way up the four walls. Boxes were scattered everywhere. There wasn't any visible blood or struggle. There was one doorway, in the far corner, with a little bit a daylight shining through. Rick nodded toward the doorway and Glen and T Dog inched up to it.

The closer we got to the door, the more we could hear an airy, hissing sound. Daryl scowled next to me, probably trying as hard as I was to pinpoint the noise. Glen stepped through the doorway first and laughed.

Daryl and I brought up the rear. I immediately turned around when I entered the other room, keeping our backs covered. When I looked forward Rick had his hands on his hips and was shaking his head. T Dog and Glen were attempting to disconnect an inflatable, waving advertisement hooked up to a car battery.

"That was our movement." Rick said, holstering his gun on his belt, watching Glen and T Dog avoiding getting smacked by the orange man flailing about.

Daryl growled beside me and I pocketed my knife. This had been a good, clean run. No casualties, plenty of non-ransacked supplies. I had seen much worse.

Then I noticed Daryl was in the very front of the store, peering through the front doors. I grabbed at my knife too late and was knocked to the ground by a huge, hulking corpse with long, scraggily grey hair.

Teeth snapped in my face and I pushed at his neck with my right hand, trying to keep his jaws away from me. My left leg stung and I vaguely processed that I had landed on a pocketful of knives. Drool dripped out of the dead man's mouth and I tried not to gag as it landed in a string on my face.

"Layla!" Daryl yelled. I heard hard footsteps and heard a familiar thunk. The man's body went limp and landed on top of me, too heavy for me to push off one-handed.

Rick and T Dog hauled the man off me and Glen pulled me up. I wiped the drool off my face and grimaced. Daryl jogged over and ripped his arrow out of the guy's skull. Then he kicked him a few times in the back, muttering, eyes enraged.

"Let's clear the rest of the store." Rick said sternly, patting me on the back and drawing his pistol, again. I put my hand in my pants pocket and yanked my smallest knife out of my skin, biting my bottom lip. Thankfully it had only poked me and not sliced me but it still stung.

I spied an office, back behind a display of tents with some bloody footprints leading over to where the corpse had fallen. I whistled and Rick nodded at me and walked toward the open, "private" door. He ducked inside, gun drawn and coughed, bringing the back of his hand to cover his mouth.

Inside the office was a body so devoured it was impossible to determine the gender. What remained was mostly bones and dried black smears all over the floor and nearly every surface in the room. I backed out of the space quickly and smacked into someone, I turned and drew a knife and held it above my head.

Daryl grabbed my wrist and shook his head. Rick backed out of the room, coughing.

"It's clear." Rick said, walking quickly away from the stench.

"You okay?" Daryl asked quietly when Rick was out of earshot.

I nodded, _Yeah._

"Yer' bleeding." Daryl said, pointing to my leg.

I glanced down, seeing a few drops of blood soak through my pant leg as it dripped down my thigh. I shrugged, _It's nothing._

Daryl nodded and walked away. I was a bit disappointed. Everyone knows kisses make things better.


	12. Chapter 12

Aside from my dead attacker and his rotting victim, the rest of Sport's World was vacant. I idly wondered if one of the two deceased occupants was Jed. And if the office corpse could have killed or even just contained the huge infected guy, there would have been a multitude of resources at their disposal.

Albeit, it worked in our favor that no one had touched the supplies but someone who was in a sporting goods store should have had a better chance at survival, right?

I looked at myself in the unisex bathroom mirror by flashlight. My odds at living through all of this were pretty slim but I had managed to stay around. Not without adapting some, of course.

My eyes were sunken back in my head, olive green as always but with dark bags underneath. My eyebrows were thick and dark, completely unlike the way I had them bleached and waxed every week, before. My cheek bones had shadows under them in the poor light. There were scratches all over my face, scabbing over, sure to leave scars.

I took my right arm out of my sling and flexed my fingers, tentatively. My arm felt weak from lack of use but no amount of rotating or pulling made my shoulder hurt, anymore. I pulled off my thermal shirt and slowly peeled away the bandage on my arrow wound. It was red with some crusted blood but not infected-looking. Sore to the touch but much better.

Lack of food had taken its toll on the rest of my body. Bones were sticking out, sharp all over. Especially my shoulders and my hips. Inexplicable bruises littered my body from any number of altercations.

I easily dropped the cargo pants I was wearing without undoing the fly. The weight of my knives pulled them to the floor with a click of metal blades on the tile. My knees stuck out awkwardly, reminding me of a baby horse, learning to walk, too gangly for its age.

I sighed and cleaned my knife wound on my thigh with some alcohol and a small bandage from a first aid kit I had found behind the cash register. Then I started redressing in a black sports bra and black underarmor. Jed actually had a small women's section for the sporty female. I threw on a pair of olive "hunting jeans", four sizes less than what I used to be and still a little loose. The piece de resistance was a wood camo Henley with pink stitching. For when you want to hunt with the boys but show off your feminine side, I guess.

My reflection in the mirror looked ridiculous. Like a hunting clown. I wouldn't have been caught dead in any of this shit before the world ended. I would have laughed if I had seen myself. And I wouldn't have been able to tell it was me.

Tears stung my eyes and I put my hands in my hair. I felt the foreign, short tresses and sunk to the floor, silently sobbing.

-

Layla took forever in the bathroom. I pretended to judge the soles of shoes, as close to the bathroom as I could get without looking obvious. She came out sniffling, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, her eyes red and the front of her hair standing straight up.

I cleared my throat and she came over, looking at the ground.

"Ya' need some better shoes." I said.

She shrugged and grabbed the closest thing, a low top climbing boot for men about twice the size of her foot. I shook my head and took the boot out her hands.

"Wha' size?" I asked.

She held up seven fingers, _Seven._

I walked down the aisle to the women's shoes and picked a high top boot that was light and quiet. I turned around to give them to her and she was suddenly standing right next to me. I flinched, startled and pushed the box toward her.

Layla plopped down on the ground and traded a worn pair of black tennis shoes for the boots. She looked up at me from the floor with a lopsided grin.

"Wha'?" I asked.

She pointed at my feet and then wiggled her toes, _We're wearing the same shoes._

I shook my head and rolled my eyes and held my hand out to her. She took my hand and I pulled her up to her feet, too hard, and she fell forward, into me. She put her hands on either side of my chest to catch herself and I grabbed her hips to help steady her. I glanced around the store, very aware of how close we were.

T Dog and Rick were clanging away in the corner at the locked gun cases. Glen was collecting all the bags and backpacks he could find near the front door.

Layla touched my lips lightly with hers for the briefest second and then pulled back, looking at me to judge my reaction. I pulled her body closer to me and bent down and kissed her deeper. She slid her hands up to my neck and buried them in my hair. I bit her bottom lip and she pulled away, smiling. I ducked down and kissed her again.

She started wiggling in my arms and I grinned. Then she pulled my hair forcefully and I let her go, surprised. Just then, Glen walked down the row of shoes next to us, into the bathroom.

Layla bit her bottom lip and pointed at my mouth. Then she pointed at her mouth, her eyebrows knitted in concentration, _What does the kissing mean?_

I shook my head, "I don' know wha' you mean," I lied, avoiding her eyes and silencing her from trying to rephrase.

She put her hand on my arm and I shook her off, "'Need supplies." I said.

Layla grabbed my arm more firmly, "This was yer' idea." I growled.

She frowned and dropped my arm, eyes stormy. I mentally kicked myself, making Layla mad was not something I wanted to do.

"Come on, ya' need some gloves fer' cleanin' animals." I said. Layla followed me sullenly, arms crossed over her chest.

"Yer' not wearin' the sling." I said. She shrugged.

"Shoulder better?" I asked. She nodded, _Yes._

I scratched the back of my head and looked at an endcap of gloves. She obviously wasn't going to get over this easily.

-

I had Layla loaded with supplies after 20 minutes and a trip down every aisle. I also threw a few flannel shirts and wife beaters in the bottom of her bag after watching her constantly smooth and adjust the shirt she had on. Her mood had not lifted despite upgrading many or her knives and a belt completely covered in pouches and holsters for various sized knives and tools. Now her pockets only contained folding knives and saws and multi-tools. Ones that would no longer cut her when she fell on them. Her eyes sparkled as she tested the weights and looked at the blade sharpness of her new toys but she didn't smile or mime anything to me.

Layla's silence was killing me.

Er, you know, lack of gestures that stand for words. I hadn't dared kiss her again. Our hands brushed a few times and she jerked away like the mere touch of me burned her.

Glen had been busy loading up basic supplies for the whole group but had filled most of the containers he could find. Rick and T Dog had managed to break into the gun display area and were matching up weapons with ammo.

"Hey." I said.

Layla looked up at me and cocked her head.

"Le's go see Rick." I nodded toward the corner of the store and Layla walked in that direction, not responding to my suggestion in any way.

Layla eyed some bandoliers near the boxes of ammo and I had a thought, "Ya' ever use a gun?" I asked her.

She shook her head, _No._

"Ya' should have one. Jus' in case." I said.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, _Oh no._

"It's a good idea, Layla. For emergencies." Rick said, authoritatively.

Layla shrugged nonchalantly at Rick and shot me a glare. I ignored her and looked at the guns in the shattered glass cases. A .38 special caught my eye and I glanced toward Layla. She was kicking some of the glass pieces on the ground with the toe of her shoes but nodded at the gun, _That one?_

"It's small but it'll work for a backup." I said.

She looked down the display of guns and eyed a .45 with gold hardware and mother of pearl grips. She glanced at me and raised her eyebrows.

"No." I said.

She frowned, _Why?_

"Too big, heavy."

She nodded enthusiastically and mimed her hands flying out of the back of her head, _Yeah! More damage._

I shook my head, "Ya' ain't gunna be usin' it all the time, just as a last resort. Ya' only need somethin' ya' can carry."

Layla reached out and carefully plucked the .45 from the broken glass. She tested the weight in her hands and then sighted the gun as if to fire, closing one eye. I walked up behind her and moved her right hand to support the bottom on the pistol.

"Both of 'em." I said and she opened her eyes and straightened her head.

"Line up the dot on the end." She raised the barrel of the gun slightly.

"Exhale and fire." I stepped away from her, the gun wasn't loaded so the lesson was basically over.

Layla put her arms down and held onto the pistol, loosely in her right hand. She grinned giddily and mimed knocking back a drink, _Like a shot._

"Yeah, like a shot." I said, the corners of my mouth turning up at her reference despite her rebellious choice of weapons.

Rick chuckled from behind the counter where he had watched the exchange between Layla and me. Layla went over to the holster section to accessorize and I grabbed the .38 when her back was turned.

I nodded at Rick, "Ya' grab any .45 or .38, yet?"

Rick handed me a box of .45 bullets, "I thought she didn't want the .38."

I shrugged, "Backup backup."

Rick nodded, amused. "How do you know what she's saying?"

"Ain't hard. She tells ya' if you're wrong." I said, eager to drop it.

Layla appeared next to me, brandishing her .45 toward the box of bullets. She saw the .38 and narrowed her eyes.

"Keep it in yer' bag, emergencies." I said, firmly.

"You can have all the .38's you want; you're the only one usin' 'em." Rick said, going back to throwing guns in a bag.

Layla smacked my arm and pointed at the .38, then she pointed at Rick and sneered, _I'm not using that gun, it's a joke._

"Jus' in case." I said, walking over to the shelves of ammo and loading the small gun for her. I motioned for her to turn around and she spun, exhaling angrily through her nose and I put the gun and 2 boxes on shells in her bag.

Layla turned at handed the .45 to me, nodding at me.

"What?" I asked, confused.

She pointed to the box of bullets on the counter and then at herself, _Show me how to load it._

I released the clip and took a bullet, showing her which way to load them. Then I reinserted the clip and handed the gun back to her. She fumbled with the clip release and then when she finally pressed the button, the clip fell to the floor at her feet. She glanced at me and bit her lip and I raised my eyebrows. She snatched the clip up, quickly and loaded the rest of the bullets and then put the clip back in the gun. She went to pull the hammer back and I put my hand on top of hers.

"Not til' you're ready to shoot." I said, dropping my hand. She nodded and put the gun in the holster she had chosen and snapped the closure over it. Then she went to filling her bandolier with more rounds.

I eyed her ensemble. A camo shirt, olive pants and a belt filled with serious hunting knives. Across her back was a military knapsack and over her shoulders a bandolier filled with bullets. Her gun holster had its own belt, resting below the one holding up her pants. The holster also had a Velcro strap around her leg.

I went off into the store to grab a few arrows. Seeing Layla in combat gear was strange. I had an urge to protect her. Hence the gun. And the backup, backup gun. Part of me didn't want her to use the supplies we'd gather for her. Which made no sense; I knew she could take care of herself. She had protected the group alongside me, she was an asset. Why did I suddenly want her to sit out?

-

The plan for leaving the store was simple, blow through the front doors, haul ass to the car. Glen peeked out the sliding glass doors and took a head count of the dead outside.

"About a dozen, 8 in our path." Glen said, returning to Rick, Daryl, T Dog and I.

"Can we make it past 'em?" Rick asked, concerned.

"At top speed? Sure. With all these supplies?" Glenn frowned, not answering his rhetorical question.

Daryl huffed to my right and started to pace the floor.

I waved my arms and turned to Rick. He raised his eyebrows at me and I pointed to myself and the stockroom door. Then I mimed walking fingers and pointed a line from the stockroom, up the side of the building with the alley and to the front where the doors were. Then I waved my hands and pointed at Rick, Glen, T Dog and Daryl and threw both my arms toward the car.

Rick shook his head slowly, not comprehending any part of my plan. Daryl roughly grabbed my forearm.

"No way." He growled. I shook his arm off and shrugged my shoulders, putting my arms high up into the air, _What else are we going to do?_

Rick looked at Daryl, "What's she say?"

Daryl shook his head, "She wants to be a diversion. Go back the way we came, distract the walkers while we get a head start with all the bags."

T Dog put his hands on his hips. "It's not a bad plan. They didn't see us come in here."

Rick looked at me, seriously, "How would you get their attention, you can't talk."

I patted my hip with the gun and smiled.

Rick shrugged, "It's the best plan we got." He said, in Daryl's direction.

-

Daryl loaded a new yellow feathered arrow into his bow and looked up at me, sullenly, "Ya' sure about this?"

I nodded, _Yes._

Daryl sighed and moved the boxes away from the double doors. He pressed his ear against the right one and listened, "I don't hear nothin'."

I nodded and stood in front of the doors, very close to him. I stood on my tip toes and pecked him on the cheek. He blushed and put his left hand on my cheek, thumb brushing my cheek bone. I smiled and he slid his hand to the back of my neck and pulled me in to him for a passionate kiss.

An eternity later Daryl pulled away, letting my neck go, "Ya' better leave or I ain't gunna let ya'."

I smiled and pulled a large hunting knife off my belt. I flicked it open and pointed to my gun and then my ear, _Listen for my shot._

Daryl nodded and raised his crossbow putting one hand on the door.

I snapped my fingers and he looked at me. I touched my lips and put a hand on my heart and pointed to him. He nodded once and cleared his throat. Then he tightened his grip on the door and whispered, "One, two, three-"

He yanked the door open and I ran out, light on my feet. I turned, looking through the open door, eyes locking with Daryl's for one second before he shut the door and I heard the scuffle of boxes being moved back in front of it. I heard a growl to my left and I put my back to Jed's Sports World and began to execute my plan.


	13. Chapter 13

My plan was ingenious. I was brilliant. It was totally going to work and I was going to keep everyone alive and bring back bookoo supplies and be a hero.

Wait, nope, I was totally fucked.

The back alley that had been deserted only hours before now had a few stragglers at the mouth. And I knew there were at least a dozen dead between me and the car. The confidence from Daryl's parting kisses was quickly wearing off and I was feeling the fool.

Why did I volunteer to do this, again?

Oh, that's right, I'm professional bait. Perhaps my selflessness was another reason I shied away from staying with other groups. 'Cause either they would have gotten me killed or I'd kill myself in their name.

So far I hadn't been noticed. I edged along the side of Jed's back wall, trying to stay low to the ground. There was absolutely nothing to shield myself with. A man in a tattered suit walking on gnawed off, stumps of legs fell to the ground. I froze, watching him try to rise again by jerking his body. While he was preoccupied I tip toed toward the corner of Jed's. I peered around the edge slowly, holding my breath.

Just then, small boy turned the corner and walked back the way I came, about 6 feet from me, bumping into stump guy still on the ground. I turned the corner, still clutching the wall and huddled as small as I could, hoping I wasn't noticed. I counted to three and then started jogging through the dead. Arms raised and they began grabbing for me, though none were close enough to touch me. I made a spiral and they all followed my path, moaning and gnashing their teeth.

When I had most of the horde on my tail, I flicked my knife close, pocketed it and pulled out my new gun and fired a bullet into the face of the closest dead woman. My hand jerked up at the last minute, blowing the top of her head off but she crumpled to the ground, really dead, all the same.

I could heard the others feet slapping the pavement and I paused, shocked by the gore of my new toy. The dead on my tail got a little too close for comfort and I zigzagged, trying to shake off the awe of having actually fired a gun. The little boy sprinted around the side of Jed's, taking me by surprise.

I ran into the kid, pushing him to the ground and stepping on him with my momentum. His hands grasped at my pant legs and I stopped and tried to turn back the way I came. The dead who had been following me had somehow formed a pretty tight knit wall. Even the stump legs guy was dragging himself toward me.

In a spur of the moment decision I jumped off the boy and ran behind Jed's again, intent on meeting the other going around the right of the building since the left was so… Dead. The right side, of course, had a 3 foot chain link fence. I ran directly into it, bouncing off the chain link with a metallic jangle and then tried to gain purchase up the fence with the toes of my new boots, holstering my gun to free both my hands.

The dead reached me when I was sitting on the fence, with one leg on each side. The clawed toward me and I pushed myself over the top, falling on right hip. The fence groaned and shook dangerously and I rolled over and started crawling toward the mouth of the alley.

A teenage girl with long, stringy hair limped around the front of Jed's and I swore silently. I climbed up onto my feet, feeling sore and definitely expecting a bruise. I unsheathed a knife and tossed it toward her as I fast walked.

The blade struck her in the neck and stuck straight out but she continued to come toward me. I started frantically detaching my machete from my belt when an arrow sprouted in the back of her head and she dropped to the ground. Daryl stepped around the corner and grabbed his arrow and my knife. The fence collapsed behind us the dead tripped over each other to hobble over it.

"Come on!" Daryl yelled, scowling.

I jogged over to him and was bathed in headlights as Rick pulled up in the Hyundai. I ripped the door open and slid in the middle of the backseat, next to Glenn. Daryl jumped in beside me and Rick started driving before Daryl even shut the door.

I panted and Daryl wiped my blade off on his red rag before holding it out to me.

"Diversion, huh?" He asked, skeptically.

I grabbed my knife back and toyed with it in my hands, saying nothing.

"Yeah, yer' welcome." He said, turning and looking out the window.


	14. Chapter 14

Our looting party was greeted with less fanfare than I expected. The others dug into our finds and divvied things up between everyone but there was no happiness or excitement. I had expected everyone to react the way I had upon finding my new gun. The whole process made me somewhat depressed so I wandered over to Daryl, keeping watch at the front of our parked car caravan.

"Whatcha want?" Daryl grunted, leaning against the front fender of the suburban.

I pointed to his crossbow and mimicked a dead shuffle and started falling to the ground.

"You were holdin' us up." He said.

I shrugged, _Even so…_

We stood in silence for a while then I nudged him with my elbow. He looked over at me. I motioned over my shoulder and then pointed at myself, then my heart then him. Then I wrinkled my nose and shook my head, _Before, when I said that stuff, I didn't mean it._

Daryl's eyes narrowed and he looked away, "Yeah, whatever."

Someone cleared their throat behind us and we both turned to see Rick near the passenger door, "Am I interrupting…?"

I shook my head, _No._

We're gunna set up camp off the road. It's dark. You two wanna go hunting?" Rick asked.

I nodded, _Sure._

"Good." Rick said, starting to walk away, then he turned around, walking backwards, "And thanks."

I waved my hand at him dismissively, _No problem._

Clapping my hands together, I turned to Daryl, eager to use my new gear. Daryl was still pouting and silently led the way into the woods, on the other side of the road from where the rest of the group was setting up camp.

-

Layla was clumsy with her new knives. She lost one smaller knife, possibly still imbedded in a squirrel's stomach somewhere, slowly killing it. She covered her hands with her mouth in horror when the squirrel kept on running away and I just shook my head is shock and disappointment.

I had 3 squirrels. She had missed at 2, not including knife belly squirrel.

She was better at dressing them but that skill didn't do much good if you can't kill them.

"How 'bout I just shoot at them." I said.

She snorted through her nose and stomped her foot.

"Ya' ain't hitin' 'em." I retorted.

She held up 1 finger, looking determined.

"Fine." I said, she could have one last chance.

We were almost back to the road. I was still a little… Confused. About what she had said. And then taken back. I guess in the moment she overstepped or, hell, maybe she thought she wasn't gunna make it. In any case, she didn't really mean it. And that stung more than I thought it would.

Layla put a hand on my shoulder and I stopped, a few feet from the pavement. Her knife wasn't at the ready so I waited.

"Hear somethin'?" I asked.

Layla threw herself at me and attacked my mouth with hers. I put a hand between us and pushed her back. I shouldered my crossbow and she smiled and stepped forward, trying to kiss me again. I stepped back and she put her hands on her hips.

"Let's jus' go." I said, trying to walk past her.

She stepped in front of my, frowning. She pointed at her heart and then pointed at me.

"I dunno what yer' sayin'." I said, avoiding her eyes.

She slapped me, turning my whole head to the side. I put a hand on my cheek.

"What the hell?!" I yelled.

She sighed and brushed her fingers over my hand. I moved it and she stroked my cheek, frowning. She slowly leaned towards my and kissed me where she had slapped. Then she moved her head to the side, looking into my eyes and raised her eyebrows.

Fuck, I did want to kiss her.


	15. Chapter 15

Glen approached me at breakfast the next morning. I nodded at him in a greeting and he thrusted a small pad of paper and a golf pencil at me. I took the items and raised my eyebrows at him, _What's this?_

"Uh, I found them at the register at Jed's. We can know what you're saying." Glen smiled.

I nodded my head with cheery optimism and scribbled on the pad. Then I handed it back to him and he read my words. 'Thank you.'

He nodded, handed me back my pad and walked back over to where Beth and Maggie were eating fried spam from Jed's. I tucked my paper and pencil in my pocket and went rose from the ground, brushing off my butt.

I walked up to the road and found a good tree for target practice, and then I hurled some knives to get out my frustration at Glen and his offensive present. **Oh, no one bothers to pay attention to what you're trying to say, here's something humiliating to make our lives easier.**

Daryl whistled at me and walked over, "Whatcha doin'? Everyone's packin' up."

I pointed to my backpack on my back and continued with my angered knife throwing.

"Ya' mad?" Daryl asked after watching some particularly hard throws.

I pulled at the corners off my eyes to make them squinty and then took the pad and the pencil out of my pocket and brandished them toward Daryl. He chuckled and flipped the book open.

"So no more charades?" He asked, amused.

I smiled, sarcastically and grabbed the book and the pencil back. I scrawled 'Fuck you' quickly and shoved it at Daryl. He read what I'd written in the book and shook his head, smiling.

"What's wrong with this? He's tryin' to help." Daryl said, giving me the book again.

I put my hand to my lips and pointed at Daryl and shrugged, _You understand me just fine._

"Yeah, well they ain't like me." He said.

I smiled, that was true. A thought occurred to me and I wrote some lines down in my book to clarify something for Daryl.

'In the back room, I didn't tell you I loved you, it may have looked like it, I told you I like you. You didn't have to get mad. We don't have to stop kissing. Even if you don't want to define what we are.'

Daryl read my words slowly and then ripped out the page and shoved it in his vest pocket. I cocked my head to the side, questioningly.

"I don't want anyone else to see it." He said, blushing.

I nodded.

"An' I wasn't mad." He said.

I pointed to my hand and then his cheek and raised my eyebrows.

"I was tired!" He said defensively.

I shook my head and dropped the issue, knowing there was a hickey on my collarbone that begged to differ.

-

_Team._

Daryl shook his head.

_Team!_

Daryl shook his head again, but obviously amused at my persistence to get my point across with my ridiculous gesture.

_TEAM!_

"Jus' write it down." He said, grinning crookedly.

I smacked his shoulder as hard as I could and walked away. He grunted and I kept walking, ignoring him and attempting to hold onto my dignity.

I was not going to give in to this writing nonsense. Ever since Glen gave me that stupid pad a week ago people started ignoring my body language and wanted everything in writing. Daryl was the last straw. If my communication came down to spelling out every little thing, I'd just accept my muteness.

Unfortunately, I was the only one used to traveling in the new world and had many insights. Equally as unfortunate, my insights were long and wordy and made my hand cramp from not having written in so long. Even in college, everything was typed. Part of my probable medical transcription future was taking hand written words and voice recordings and typing them up, no writing needed.

Today the group was at a rest area. There was only one vehicle in the parking lot, a semi-truck, with a driver that shot himself in the face. A long, fly-filled while ago. The rest stop had a hand pump for water with a plaque about an underground well. The bathrooms were… Rustic. Barely enclosed wood and cement monstrosities, covered in graffiti but nicer than the open woods so we set up a camp.

The whole area had a decorative wood fence around it, next to the woods so the camp had a perimeter. Next to the road was a taller, solid wood fence painted white, to block the sound, with only two holes, one as the entrance, and the other for the exit.

Honestly, it was a nice place to rest, but, we needed somewhere more permanent. I had been trying to get this point across to Rick when I had become fed up with the incessant need for me to make notes for everyone. I attempted to have a conversation with Daryl about running away together, joking of course, but he too wanted none of the work associated with my brand of talking.

The jerk.

In Daryl's defense, it was Rick's fault my patience was thin. Rick had told me to jot down my ideas and we could discuss them later. Or tell Daryl to pass along to him. I sensed that Rick didn't really understand the nature of my relationship with Daryl if he thought Daryl would willingly play telephone with Rick and me.

Then again, I didn't fully understand the relationship with Daryl. We hunted together, saved each other's asses, fought and kissed. And literally just kissed. A few times a wandering hand but always above layers of clothing and, as embarrassing as it was, usually mine.

And in response to my roaming hands, Daryl usually either jerked away or grabbed my hands and held them. Which was both romantic and useful in making sure we only ever kissed. It was incredibly frustrating in a way I hadn't felt since high school. And Daryl was even older than I was. How could the kissing be satisfying enough for him?

Maybe he was a masochist. Or he was worried that he wouldn't be able to stop himself once we got started. Possibly he could calculate it had been 3 months since I had last shaved any part of my body. My head was probably the shortest and most well groomed area I possessed. But while kissing Daryl, thoughts of my grooming habits were not at the forefront of my brain. I was decidedly not thinking with my brain during those times.

How did Daryl manage stay so composed and not give into the passion?


	16. Chapter 16

Layla was driving me crazy.

Every time we were on our own together, she was right there, tempting me. And I wanted her, of course, but… I stopped her. Every time. I couldn't…

Anyhow, this time she was leaning against the sound fence, behind some shrubbery, beckoning me to her with one finger and a dirty, dirty smirk. I glanced around, toward the road, making sure no one was around. We'd gone hunting and tried to get a headcount of any walkers in the area. We found none but for some reason, they usually liked to interrupt Layla and me.

Satisfied, I stalked over to her and dropped a string of squirrels on the ground, at our feet. I put my hands in her hair and brushed my thumbs over her cheekbones. She smiled and I kissed her hard, trying to maintain my dominance. I pushed Layla back, against the fence and she gasped, making the most noise she was capable of. I pulled back and looked over my shoulder, confirming we were still alone.

When I turned around Layla had unbuttoned half of the buttons on her flannel shirt, almost to her navel. I put my fingers over her and shook my head. She bit her bottom lip and pulled my left hand inside her shirt, touching the warm flesh of her ribs. I tried to pull my hand away but she intertwined our fingers and pulled me in her a kiss, deep and passionate.

-

As I kissed Daryl, I slowly, almost unperceptively pulled our hands up, and then I placed his hand on my right breast. Daryl immediately froze, making me knock teeth with him while trying to continue the kiss. I winced and turned my head to the other side, attempting to kiss him again. He grunted and pulled his head away.

He attempted to pull his hand back and I grabbed his wrist and smiled. He twisted out of my grasp and leaned down, picking up the rope of squirrels and started walking down the rest of the wall, toward camp.

"Put yer' shirt back on." He said, not stopping.

-

T Dog chuckled, his hands on his hips, surveying the motel. I had to admit, this was a pretty good camp he had found us. There had been some signs, pointing to a little mom and pop motel, off the main road. T Dog had suggested we pay it a visit, pick up some bedding or other supplies and we'd decided to stay a few days.

It was dilapidated and kind of disgusting but it was on an empty stretch of road, a dead end of almost cobblestone-pavement. There were no vehicles, no bodies and there were 9 rooms, lined up next to each other, all the keys hanging in the unlocked lobby.

Everyone was ecstatic about sleeping in a real bed. Carol cooked up a stew in the owner's quarters, behind to the lobby. We stayed quiet but were in good spirits. Rick divvied out room keys, Room 1 for him, Lori and Carl, Room 2 for Hershel and Beth, Room 3 for Maggie and Glenn, Room 4 for Carol, Room 5 for T Dog and Room 6 for me and Room 7 for Daryl.

Daryl had been on edge since we arrived and he volunteered for first watch. He set up in the lobby, behind the front desk, with a clear view of the road through the glass front door. Rick agreed to come relieve him in a few hours and T Dog and Glen would take third and fourth shifts.

We left most of our possessions in the vehicles in case we needed to leave during the night. I waved at Maggie as I unlocked my room and Glen unlocked hers. I was so relieved to have a night's sleep protected my four walls and a roof. Being out in the open did not make for a decent night's sleep. And the nights were getting very cold.

I felt around the wall and found a light switch. I flicked it and nothing happened. I rolled my eyes, we knew the power was out from the lobby but old habits die hard. I flicked on a flashlight from my belt. The room was small and smelled a bit musty from being shut up for so long. There were a table and chair to my right, a bed in the center or the room and an open door on the far wall, through which I could see a toilet. The walls were all wood paneling and the bedspread and curtains were matching, awful yellow and orange floral.

On the left wall was another door, I turned the knob and peered through the door. It was another room with the same setup as mine but facing me. I smirked, this was Daryl's room. I had an interesting choice before me. When Daryl was done with watch he would inevitable search his room, check the door and realize I was in the adjoining room. I could wait and see what he did then.

Or- I could wait for him in his room. There was a whole room between us and T Dog and T Dog would eventually go on watch, putting two rooms between us and Carol.

It had been five days since the shirt incident. We had spent two days on the road, the other three we had avoided each other and gone hunting alone at different times. We weren't mad at each other, we just hadn't talked. About anything. Not like that was difficult, given my predicament.

However, if he had reacted that way to touching me, how well would he respond to me in his bed? This was a golden opportunity. I had to tread carefully so as not to mess this up. All of our encounters were in the woods, in the open. And most of them ended because we were found by the wandering dead. I couldn't waste the privacy.

I retreated back to my room, shutting the door behind me and sitting at the little table. I clicked off my flashlight and waited.

-

Rick exited his room and entered the lobby, right on time. I nodded at him in greeting.

"Anything?" He asked.

"Quiet." I said.

Rick nodded. I got up from the chair behind the desk and stretched. Rick put his hand on my shoulder.

"Go get some sleep."

I nodded again and walked to Room 7. I fished the key out of my pocket, unlocked the door and threw the door open. I ducked to the side of the frame; nothing came out so I turned on my flashlight, put it in my mouth and rushed in the room. A door on the right swung open and I turned to it, illuminating it with my flashlight. I tightened my grasp on my crossbow and Layla stepped through the door, blinking from the light.

I dropped my crossbow and closed the outside door and locked it.

"Should be sleepin'." I said to Layla. She shrugged.

I entered the bathroom, pulled the shower curtain back and made sure everything was clear. Then I nudged Layla aside from the doorway and checked her room. When I was done I sat down on my bed and put the crossbow on the night stand. Then I untied my boots and put them within reach at the side of the bed.

Layla slunk over, sitting next to me on the edge of the bed and set her pad of paper on the bedspread.

'I miss you.'

"I'm righ' here." I said.

She scribbled in the book, 'Why don't you want me?'

I furrowed my brow, "'Course I want ya'."

She shook her head and pointed to her right breast.

"We can't." I said.

She shrugged her shoulders and I turned my flashlight off.

"I'm tired." I said, trying to end the conversation.

Layla turned her own flashlight on and wrote again, 'I want you.'

"Layla…" I sighed, "Go to bed."

'Please' she wrote.

"Jus' go to sleep." I said, exasperated.

She pointed at the 'Why don't you want me?' line on the page.

"I do. Jus'… Not now." I said.

She motioned to the room around us and pointed to the 'Please' line.

I stood up and started pulling the blankets down on the bed. Layla got up, hopefully, pointing the flashlight at my face. I pointed toward her door. She frowned and I plopped down and put my hands behind my head.

"Go to your room." I said, closing my eyes. I heard the flashlight turn off and she clipped it to her belt.

I felt an odd brush over my groin and then weight on the right and then left sides of my hips. Layla put her hands on my shoulders, and I opened my eyes and saw her straddling me. I started sitting up and she kissed me. She leaned back to breathe and our hips pressed together.

"Layla-" I started, but she leaned back down into me, silencing me with her lips. She pushed my head back until it was on the pillow. I kissed her back, having missed her as well.

-

In the morning, Daryl woke up before I did; his boots and crossbow were gone. We only kissed and fell asleep in his bed because he was **so **tired. I climbed out of his bed and went back to my room to go outside, not raising any suspicion.

We'd had one safe night at this motel and Daryl did not kick me out of his bed, it was all going according to plan.


	17. Chapter 17

I was never very good at cooking. In fact, at college, I could call up any given take out place, give them address and they knew my usual order. The microwave wasn't too difficult for me to use but the stove was another, bad story. Scary story.

The stove was nothing compared to an open flame.

Carol was attempting to teach me to cook. Powdered eggs and spam. The meal itself was simple, just warming food on the fire but… The fire? It was terrifying. And Carol found the whole situation hilarious.

"You mean you can shoot poor animals, carve 'em up but you can't cook them?" She laughed and shook her head. "There's really no way to mess this up."

I knew she meant it as encouragement but it was basically a challenge to fail epically.

Layla was in a foul mood. She hadn't brought her pad of paper with her and wasn't even trying to communicate with anyone. Layla had cooked lunch with help from Carol, it was decent and everyone was trying to compliment her but she ignored them.

As soon as she was finished eating Layla jumped up, pulled out a flip knife and started off towards the woods.

"You two hunting?" T Dog asked, eyebrows raised, staring after Layla.

I swallowed my last bite of eggs and shrugged, running after her, crossbow in hand.

"Hey!" I called out to her after we ducked around the corner of the last motel room.

Layla kept walking at her fastest possible pace.

"The hell's yer problem?!" I yelled, about a foot behind her and closing the distance.

She stopped, suddenly and spun around. We collided with each other, her face smacking against my chest. She pushed me back with her left hand, glaring. She motioned around her and then smacked my chest.

"The fuck I do to you?"

She opened her mouth and laughed silently. Her eyes were wide and crazy and I realized she was being sarcastic. She shook her head wildly.

"Last night? Yer' mad? We fell asleep!"

She jabbed her finger at my heart.

"Well you don't gotta be a bitch to everyone 'bout it." I said.

She breathed in through clenched teeth and made a hissing sound. I was bracing myself for her to push or slap but suddenly her expression changed to one of fear and she turned to her right side, brandishing her knife.

On the ground was a walker, both hands around Layla's ankle, making the hissing sound I'd assumed had been her. Its jaw was unhinged and flopping around as it jerked its head, still trying to bite at Layla's foot. I dispatched the walker with arrow through its head and Layla pulled her foot out if its grasp.

"You okay?" I asked, pulling my arrow out of the walker's rotten skull.

She nodded, running a hand through her hair.

"You wanna hunt?" I asked, hopeful that the death experience made her forget about us for a moment.

She nodded again, _Yes._

-

Rick wanted to keep to the same watch schedule every night. Something about the body's internal clock shit. I'd offered to watch longer but he brushed me off.

"Daryl, you have to sleep." He said, holding the door open for me.

"Yeah." I said, chewing on the corner of my thumb. That was the last thing Layla had in mind.

But when I opened the door to my room she was there, as expected, but, she was sleeping, blankets pulled up around her neck. I toed my boots off and climbed in next to her, relieved. I scooted closer to her and started putting my arm around her. But something wasn't right. My hand was touching bare hip bone.

Layla was naked.

She'd been waiting here to seduce me and fell asleep. I rolled over onto my side, away from her and facing the door. The whole situation made me tense and I wanted to punch something. Layla stirred next to me and brought her arm up over her eyes, in her sleep.

I'd get up, go sleep in her bed and hope I woke up before she came looking for me. Naked.

I tried to disturb her as little as possible as I pulled the blankets back and set my feet on the ground. I stood up and grabbed my shoes. The blankets pulled down from my absence in the bed and Layla's bare back glowed in the moonlight through the blinds. I reached over and carefully pulled the blankets back up. She stirred again and rolled over onto her side, facing me.

She opened her eyes and grinned, sleepily.

I frowned, "You shouldn't sleep like tha'. What if we gotta run in the night?"

She shrugged, sitting up, baring her shoulders.

"Come on, Layla, put some clothes on." I said.

She cocked her head to the side, still smiling.

"What do you want from me?" I asked quietly, exhausted.


	18. Chapter 18

The corners of Layla's mouth turned down and her brow furrowed.

"I do want ya'." I said, predicting her response.

She snorted through her nose and flopped back against the pillow, sulking. This entire conversation was getting old. Either we had to or we never were.

"Layla."

She rolled onto her side, looking at me.

"Yer' sure?" I asked, hopeful she'd decline.

She nodded, exaggerated in the dark. I could see her teeth shining in a smile as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. She inched closer to me on the bed and put her hand on top of mine and squeezed.

"Jus'… Go slow, alright?" I asked, tentatively, hoping the darkness would stop her from seeing too much of me.

She nodded again and pointed to her lips. I leaned over and kissed her chastely. Then I pulled the covers over myself and scooted closer towards her.

-

Daryl was taking his sweet time. He had kissed just about every inch of me. Every time I put my hands anywhere on him he tensed up and whispered 'Wait'. Then I'd kiss him until he relaxed again and try my luck.

Every once in a while he'd freeze and say, 'Did ya' hear that?' then we'd stop, and listen, nothing would happen and I'd have to kiss him more to get him in the mood again. Or, as much in the mood as Daryl ever is.

I sucked gently on his neck and pulled at the hem of his sleeveless shirt. He put his hands over mine and grunted.

"Let's leave tha' on." He said.

I dropped my hands to his fly and looked up into his face. His eyes were wide and he was frowning, jaw set. He said nothing so I undid the button.

I glanced up at him, no response.

I unzipped the zipper, slowly.

I raised my eyes, again and he blinked a few times but kept quiet.

I hooked my middle fingers in the band of his boxers and pulled the tiniest bit.

"Do ya' hear tha'?" He asked, eyes darting to the door.

I roll my eyes and thrust my hand inside his pants, grabbing his member. He groans and turns wide, terrified eyes toward me.

"No, really!" He says, trying to pull away but only succeeding in wiggling in my grasp. The movement causes him to moan and close his eyes.

Something blocks the moonlight through the closed blinds and I release Daryl, looking toward the door. Daryl whimpers in response, eyes still closed.

Someone knocks lightly on the doors and Daryl's eyes shoot open. He adjusts himself and zips his pants again, glaring at me.

"Daryl!" Rick whispers from outside.

Daryl looks at me, completely naked, kneeling on his bed and he points toward the door to me room. Begrudgingly I go to it but lock eyes with Daryl before I shut it. He puts a finger over his lips and I flip him off in the darkness and shut the door as quietly as I can.

I can hear Rick enter Daryl's room and low, whispery voices. Daryl picks up his crossbow and the both leave, closing the door behind them. I go to the blinds and peek through. Rick is leading Daryl over, past the vehicles, holding binoculars out to him. Daryl takes them, raises them to his eyes and looks at something in the distance, across a field.

Daryl hands the binoculars back to Rick and Rick uses them to look at the same spot. Daryl looks over his shoulder, toward me. He's too far away to see me but I can guess that he's probably scowling. I bitterly hope he still has an erection, because if he had just submitted to me we would have been done long before Rick interrupted us.

Someone walks by my window, a tall black silhouette. I let the blinds go, out of surprise and they stop and turn and growl at me. They scratch at the window and I back up, bumping into the chair. The blinds swing and I scramble to reach the bed and put my clothes back on.

The person outside screeches and slaps harder at the window. I fumble with my belts. I jump into my boots and then stop, deciding to actually tie them lest I lose one in a chase or frantic escape. The scratching at my window has increased and I pause, hand on the doorknob. If I exit my door, there's a foot between me and the undead. Throwing a knife isn't an option. I have no idea how many are out there so the element of surprise would definitely be appreciated. I dash through the adjoining door to Daryl's room and burst through his door, knife at the ready.

The hulkingly tall dead man at me window continues his scratching and I whistle, getting his attention and getting him to turn his head. I toss my knife into his eye socket and he slumps to the ground. I look around the parking lot, seeing no other dead and retrieve my knife.

Rick and Daryl run over to me as I clean my knife off as best I can on the blazer the deceased man was wearing, Rick puts his hand on my shoulder as looks down at the dead guy, Daryl spins around, crossbow at the ready, surveying the surroundings.

Daryl, satisfied that there are no more dead, holds his crossbow up and looks at the smeared blood on my motel room window.

"Baby, you okay?" Daryl asks, nudging the dead guy on the ground with his boot.

I raise my eyebrows at him at the term of endearment, especially in front of Rick but nod.

Rick drops his hand from my shoulder and starts walking to the office, "Try and get some sleep." He says, over his shoulder.

Daryl nods toward his room and I follow him. The corpse was completely blocking the door to me room. He shuts the door firmly behind us and I reach into my pocket to grab my pad of paper.

Suddenly I'm pushed against the wall, Daryl's mouth attacking mine with hot kisses. I pull my mouth away, attempting to breathe and Daryl bites at my neck, frantically. My head is spinning as I feel Daryl's hands working at my gun belt, then my pants belt, then the button fly to my jeans.

Daryl curses, stuck on the third of four buttons and just roughly tugs my pants down, giving up on the fly altogether. My gun holster around my thigh stays right where it is and he rips the Velcro apart, loudly. My hands fumble at his pants as I try to process Daryl's sudden interest in something he'd just tried to avoid. He pushes my hands away, unbuttons and unzips expertly and exposes himself, only enough to pull himself out. His erect self.

I wonder idly if he's erect still or erect again but suddenly he pushes me toward the table near the window and hoists me up, on top of it. My jeans are stuck around my ankles; my boots are still firmly tied to avoid being lost but Daryl puts a hand on my sternum and pushes me back, roughly.

My head hits the table, hard, and I open my mouth to cry out. At that exact moment, Daryl pulls my hips closer to him and suddenly I am filled, completely. I bite my bottom lip, wishing the nonsense words I'm thinking could be vocalized.

Daryl thrusts and I see stars. I throw my head back against the table and he groans, "Sh."

Every curse I can think of runs through my head. Tears well up in my eyes in a matter of minutes but Daryl keeps his pace, fingers digging into my hips.

I open my mouth, unconsciously and tilt my hips as I orgasm. Daryl cries out at my adjustment and pushes deep inside of me, one final time, digging his fingernails into my skin. He lets out a low, deep growl, pulling me closer toward him, my ass completely off the table.

"Ah."

Daryl's eyes fly open and he looks down at me, "Did you make a noise?"

I open my mouth to test his theory but no sound comes out. He grips my hips harder and I close my eyes at the white hot pain. He digs his fingernail deeper into me and my mouth opens in a silent cry and hot tears leak from my eyes.

Suddenly Daryl pulls out and lets my hips go at the same time. My feet fall to the floor and the edge of the table hits my back at a painful angle. My knees buckle and I slide down into a heap on the floor.

Daryl zips his pants and holds a hand out to me. I take it and he pulls me up. He pulls my pants back up and refastens them. Then he takes my belts off, sets them next to his crossbow, on the floor and pulls me over to the bed.

He climbs in first; the blankets still pulled back from our earlier tryst and pulls me down toward him. He wraps his arms around me and pulls my head into his chest, resting his chin on my hair. He rubs my back, soothingly.

"I swear it sounded like ya' talked." Daryl says, as my eyes start closing on their own accord. I start to drift out of consciousness and he kisses the top of my head and sighs.

I smile the tiniest bit. I'll take credit for that content sigh.


	19. Chapter 19

When I woke up, Layla wasn't in my bed. Her room was vacant except for an overturned chair. I peeked out the window and the walker was no longer in front of her door. The sun was pretty high; it had to be about noon.

I rooted around for clothes to change into and found that my green sleeveless button down shirt was missing. There was a pile of Layla's clothes at the foot of the bed. I picked up her jeans, intending to put them in my bag in case we had to go in a rush. There were streaks of blood inside her pants, small trickles. My mind flashed to last night, the way her mouth was opened, teeth bared but no sound escaped.

Except…

I hurried outside, toward the main office. Lori was there, looking at a map on the check-in desk.

"Morning sleepy-head." She said, smiling.

I grunted, "Where's Hershel?"

She peered behind me, down the road we had come in on.

"Went with Rick, should be back soon." She said.

I nodded and turned to go.

"Layla's teaching Carl to drive." She said.

"That right?" I asked, noncommittally, not caring.

"She's good with kids." She said in a chipper tone.

"Huh." I said, and walked out of the office, shaking my head at Lori's odd conversation.

In the parking lot, Layla was indeed teaching Carl to drive. Behind the wheel of the Hyundai, Carl could barely see over the steering wheel. He was pale and sweaty and Layla was smiling in the passenger seat, patting him on the shoulder.

I walked over to where Carol and T Dog were leaning against the motel, in the shade, watching with amused expressions. T Dog nodded at me.

"How's she doin'?" I asked.

"Don't you mean he?" Carol said.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "She can't talk."

"She's actually not bad. Maybe it's all the video games." T Dog offered.

"His old man gunna be happy 'bout this?" I asked.

"She asked permission. Or… You know." Carol said, laughing as the car jerked forward before the brake lights appeared.

"It's a good idea, makin' sure everyone can drive." T Dog said.

"What about Hershel's girl, the little one?" I asked.

"Learned on farming equipment, she ain't awful." Carol said.

"How's she at bumper cars? That's what it's like out there, sometimes." I said, kicking the ground absently.

"You're terrible." Carol said and covered her mouth as she stifled laughter.

T Dog smirked and then straightened up and pointed to the end of the row of motel rooms, "Yo!"

Two walkers staggered around the corner of the motel and T Dog and I ran toward them, weapons at the ready. We each took out one and then rounded the corner of the motel. There weren't any more but I wondered where exactly they keep coming from.

"'Nother one came around this way after watch last night, Layla killed it." I said.

"Shame. I was getting used to sleeping in a real bed." T Dog replied, hanging his head.

I picked a long blade of grass and put it in the mouth, thinking, "Well where'd Rick and Hershel go? Scouting?"

T Dog nodded, "Yeah. Hershel knew some back roads. Could be a safe spot."

"Man, ain't nothin' safe no more."

-

Carl opened the driver's door of the Hyundai and tumbled out on unsteady legs. I smiled and hopped out of the passenger side. Lori came out of the office, hands on her hips and laughed at Carl's shaken demeanor. She motioned for Carl to come to her and he did, slowly. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed the top of his head.

"Don't know how I feel about a girl teaching 'im driving," A deep voice said from behind me.

I turned and Daryl was leaning on the hood of the Hyundai, a piece of grass in his mouth. I stuck my tongue out at him. He frowned.

"Killed two more walkers." He said.

I wrinkled my nose. I decidedly did not like the group's name for the dead.

"Yeah, gunna have ta' leave soon." He said, misunderstanding my facial expression.

I let his assumption slide and nodded.

Daryl stood up straight and towered in front of me. I glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. He roughly grabbed the hem of my green button up shirt and yanked me into his chest.

"Ain't this mine?" He asked, blue eyes boring into mine, a smirk playing on his lips.

I shrugged my shoulders. Very slowly I took the piece of grass out of Daryl's mouth and cocked my head to the side.

Daryl skimmed his hands underneath the shirt, giving me goose bumps.

"I think I want it back."

I shook my head, and wrinkled my nose.

"Yer' wearing somethin' underneath." He said, referring to my white wife beater.

He put his hands in the hair at the nape of my neck and brushed his lips lightly over mine, and then pulled away, taunting me.

"Let's jus' take it off." He growled, finally kissing me, roughly.

"Hey, Daryl?"

Daryl and I pulled apart quickly. I ducked inside the cab of the Hyundai and pretended to look for something, willing the blush on my cheeks to go away.

Glenn sprinted across the parking lot to Daryl.

"The fuck you want?" He barked.

Glenn stuttered, "Uh, Rick'll be back soon, you wanna burn the walker bodies?"

"Yeah, let's do it." Daryl said, starting to walk with Glenn toward the end of the motel.

I jumped out the car, banging my head on the door frame. Glenn and Daryl turned around.

"Geez, Layla, you okay?" Glenn asked.

I nodded, rubbing the top of my head and blinking back tears. Glenn turned around and kept walking. Daryl glared at me and I pulled at the hem of the green shirt. He shook his head and whipped around to follow Glenn.

I kicked at a weed on the ground, pouting.


	20. Chapter 20

"So, you and Daryl, huh?" Lori asked, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

I choked on the stew in my mouth. Lori hurriedly dropped her towel and patted me on the back. Tears filled my vision and Lori helped me sit down on one of the kitchen chairs. She handed me a warm bottle of water and I gulped it down, praying that the conversation was over.

"Sorry. But… You're together." She said, plopping down in a chair next to me.

We had been making a late lunch for everyone. Lori had taught me the basics of cutting vegetables and we added it to some Dinty Moore to make a can go farther. Then Lori decided to drop this bombshell.

I took another sip of water, biding my time. I pointed at myself and then shook my head.

"I saw you two. At the car." She said, looking smug.

I opened my mouth to deny anything and everything and then rolled my eyes. Because I still couldn't talk.

"It's okay, he's been a big help to the group. I'm just a little surprised, you two seem to get into it a lot. I mean, he did shoot you." Lori said, rising from her chair and picking up her discarded towel.

I shook my head and wished for the first time that I had Glenn's pad to help me explain myself. Because in Daryl's defense, that injury he gave me was an accident. The knife torture, reopening the arrow wound, the pushes, tripping me occasionally, painfully nudging me with his crossbow, pulling my hair while kissing me, drawing blood with his nails last night…

The point was Lori could not think Daryl and I were together. No matter what she saw. Daryl would be furious. And our hunting trips would be scrutinized. Given, we usually did make out a lot when we were supposed to be hunting but we brought home food, too! We're adults, we have needs.

"-I just want you to be careful." Lori had started talking to me while I was in my own head.

I nodded, pretending to have heard every word.

"I mean, the road is difficult enough and we're already going to have one baby…" Lori put her hand on her stomach and looked at the ground, wearily.

Holy fucking shit, Lori's pregnant.

-

Rick decided to stay at the motel a little while longer. He and Hershel were trying to hammer out a new place to stay. Which was why I was laying in Daryl's bed wearing only his leather vest, anxiously tapping my pencil against my note pad.

Eventually Daryl unlocked his door, entered his room and started stripping off his weapons. I rose to my knees excitedly.

"It was cold out there, could'a used that." Daryl said, pointing to his vest.

I shrugged and held my pad out to him. I had tried to get him alone all day but had been unsuccessful. He waved the pad away and sat down on the bed to take off his shoes. I draped myself over his right shoulder and shoved the pad in his face.

He growled and pushed me off, onto the bed. Then he stood up and started unbuckling his belt. Though Daryl not arguing about removing his clothes was a nice change, he needed to know this. I furrowed my brow, exasperatedly and shoved the pad into his hands. Then I started unzipping his pants while he squinted at the paper to read in the dark.

"Psh, ain't no news." He said, throwing my pad down next to me.

I pointed at myself and threw my hands in the air.

"Sorry, thought ya' knew." He said, stepping out of his pants.

I frowned and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. He quickly grabbed my fingers and held my hands above my hand. He looked down at his vest and shook his head.

"Why ya' stealin' all my clothes?!"

I grinned and he threw me back on the bed. He very slowly kneeled on the bed and then crawled over to me. His calloused hands brushed over my shoulders and he pulled me up, letting the vest fall back onto the bed. He looked at my naked body in his arms and smirked.

I brought my hands up to the hem of his boxers and slowly helped him out of them, not breaking eye contact. I brought one hand tentatively to the top button of his shirt and he grunted, frowning. He snatched my hand and forced it behind my back, between me and the mattress. Daryl's other hand was grasping the back of my knee, it tickled and I smiled.

Daryl rubbed his scruffy goatee against my neck and I squirmed but was securely pinned down. Then he started kissing my collarbone. I could feel his erection growing between my legs, hot and hard.

Suddenly Daryl yanked my knee up penetrated me. My vision spun and I arched my back. His grasp on my wrist tightened and I was pushed back into the mattress. I panted and Daryl loomed over me, thrusting slowly but deeply. His shaggy hair swayed with his movement and his eyes were screwed shut.

He slid his hand up my leg and onto my hip, digging his fingers into the exact spots he did the night before. I jerked my hips in response and Daryl moaned but clutched at me tighter. A tear fell from me eye and I raked my teeth over his shoulder.

"Oh." Daryl groaned, bucking harder inside of me. I kicked my leg to try to get his attention but Daryl exhaled sharply and continued.

So I bit him.

At first, Daryl murmured sweet nothings like Yeah, and Baby and Layla. So I bit harder. And harder. And his thrusts became more erratic. He gripped my hip for dear life and I lost feeling in my arm. Daryl moved slightly and started panting in my ear. His breath on my neck was extremely sexy but the blood I could feel trickling from his fingers and the white hot pain in my hip detracted from the experience.

"Fuck, fuck, ah! Oh, fuck!" Daryl started to chant.

With every thrust the pain intensified, I pulled my mouth off of Daryl to breathe. He mewled into my neck and stopped, mid-thrust. He rose up and looked down at me.

"You cryin'?" He asked incredulously, releasing his hold on my wrist.

I pulled my sleeping hand out and smacked, limply, at his chest.

He grasped both of my hips harder, trying to still me and I threw my head back in pain.

"Ah!"

"I fuckin' knew it!" Daryl yelled and raked his fingernails down my thighs. I twisted, trying to free myself from his grasp.

Daryl puts his hands on either side of my face and forced me to look at him. He began thrusting again.

"Talk to me, baby, say my name." He pleaded.

I opened my mouth but no sound came out. Daryl roughly wiped his thumbs under my eyes, and brushed away my hot tears.

"Come on, Layla, I heard you!" He said, rocking his hips against mine.

My lip quivered in pleasure but I still couldn't talk.

His blue eyes searched mine frantically as he pumped in and out of me, harder and harder, "Please?" He panted.

I close my eyes and will myself to talk. Just say his name. Or a sound... Or anything! My lips moved but nothing came out.

"Goddamn it!" Daryl cursed and released my face.

I started bringing my hips up to meet his thrusts, focused on the feeling of him inside me, trying not to think about how angry he was that I couldn't talk on command.

Daryl grasped my left ass cheek and buried his head into the crook of my neck. He dug in his fingernails and frantically fucked me.

"Do it- Again! FUCK! Layla! Tell me… Tell me you love me. Make noise! Oh… Uh! …SPEAK!"

Daryl collapsed on top of me, sweaty, fingers covered in my blood. I awkwardly brought my hands up and rubbed his back. He was still wearing his shirt and it was sticking to him, probably quite uncomfortably. I put my hands on the hem and started to hitch it up a little. Daryl rose up onto his knees and slapped my hands away.

"Fuckin' stop!" He barked.

I blinked in surprised. Daryl looked down next to him on the bed and picked up my notepad. He threw it across the room and it hit the wall and slid down, landing on the carpeted floor with a soft thump.

"I fuckin' heard you." He said, quietly, almost menacingly. He got off the bed and put his pants back on. Then he got under the covers and lay down, facing away from me.

I stayed still for a minute, listening to Daryl's breathing. Then I crawled up to the top of the bed and slid next to Daryl. I put my hand on his back and his breathing stopped. He rolled over, already glaring at me.

I mouthed his name, _Daryl._

"What?" He muttered.

I touched my eye and put a hand on my heart and put my other hand on his heart.

"Go ta' sleep."


	21. Chapter 21

"It could come back gradually, it could come back all at once, or it could not come back at all." Hershel said slowly, staring straight at me.

I looked at the ground, quickly, "What if she was in pain, could she… Like scream?" I asked, trying not to give too much away.

"It's a brain injury, it's a delicate business. Why? Have you heard something?" Hershel asked seriously.

"I dunno, I thought…"

"Maybe you just hoped-" Hershel started.

"No! At first I wasn't sure but I heard her the second time, I-" I stopped myself and rubbed my chin. I had said too much.

"When was this?" Hershel asked evenly.

"Yesterday and the day before. It was just a noise, she was hurtin'…" I chewed on my thumb nail and glanced up at Hershel, he was nodding thoughtfully.

"Like a reflex?" He asked.

"She couldn't do it when she tried." I added.

"Makes sense… The vocal cords are a muscle, she hasn't used them in quite some time, it's not gunna be immediate." He said.

I nodded and Hershel patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

-

"This is good, Layla did you make this?" Carol asked.

Layla shook her head and pointed at T Dog.

"She tried to help." T Dog said, smiling widely. Layla rolled her eyes and went back to eating. She had avoided me all day. We woke up this morning entangled in each other and she had ignored me, gotten dressed in her own clothes and helped cook and clean, surrounded by people.

"Daryl, you find anything when you went hunting?" Rick asked.

"Uh, no, picked pretty clean. No walkers, neither." I said, still staring at Layla.

Layla tried to discreetly look at me from under her eyelashes but I was already looking at her. She froze, staring back at me and bit her lip. Then she looked back down at her food and pushed some canned vegetables around on her plate until other people were done eating. Then she handed her dish to Carol and left the office, heading for her room.

-

About an hour into my watch, Layla's door opened and she came out of her room. I sat up a little straighter and watched her walk toward me, head down, hands in the pockets of her jeans.

"Hey." I said, glancing at the doors and windows of the other motel rooms, making sure we were alone.

She nodded and handed her pad of paper to me, 'It's not my fault.'

"I know." I said, handing her notebook back. She scribbled again and I took it once more.

'You keep hurting me.'

I frowned. It wasn't that simple. That wasn't my goal. "Layla-" I started to say but she took her pad back and wrote a response, interrupting me.

'It's not going to make me talk.'

"Hershel said it was like… A Reflex." I said, in my defense. She raised her eyebrows.

"I just told him I heard ya' make noise, when you were hurt. But ya' couldn't do it on purpose." I said, quickly.

She pointed at me and then at herself.

"No it ain't jus' you and me, he's a doctor, I wanted to know what was happenin', I didn't wanna hurt you anymore."

She just looked at me for a while, expressionless. It made me a little uncomfortable so I surveyed the parking lot behind her. The clouds were moving quickly in the sky, a storm was coming. There was electricity in the air.

Layla thrust her notepad towards me again, 'You called me baby.'

I blushed, "Well… We were…"

She smirked and wrote more, 'In front of Rick. When I killed the dead man.'

I read her words and tried to think back, so much had happened since then I couldn't remember very well.

"So?" I asked, giving her the book back.

She put her hand on my chest, where my heart was and then put her hand over her own heart. Then she raised her eyebrows.

"I dunno what you mean." I said, mouth going dry.

She wrote on her pad slowly and then flipped it around so I could read it.

'Do you love me?'


	22. Chapter 22

This was it. No dead to threaten us, no fellow campers to interrupt. He couldn't pretend he didn't understand my mimes, he was going to have to answer me.

And I was fucking terrified.

I suspected he did love me. He called me baby. He listened so intently for me to make noise. He wanted me to tell him I loved him. This was the reasonable conclusion.

Right?

Daryl stared at my notebook, jaw clenched. His eyes were narrowed into almost slits. He glanced at me and swallowed thickly.

"Does it matter?" He drawled, locking my gaze.

I opened my mouth to retort but no sound came out. I put my hand to my lips, confused as to why I couldn't speak. Daryl held my gaze, barely blinking and my head spun. This wasn't right. I had asked him a yes or no question. Of course it mattered! Or… Did it?

My hand holding the notebook shook and Daryl reached out and took it from me. My cheeks burned in embarrassment and my vision began to swim. Daryl ripped the current page out of the book and tucked it in the pocket of his vest.

"Should get some sleep." He said, scratching the back of his head.

I nodded, _Yes._

I turned around and took a deep breath.

"Uh, Layla?" Daryl asked quietly.

I glanced over my shoulder and Daryl waved my notepad. I shrugged and shook my head at the same time, _I don't need it._

Daryl nodded and tossed it onto the reception desk next to him. I walked back to my room and got into bed but it was a long time before I fell asleep.


	23. Chapter 23

"A shopping center? Do you really think that's a good idea?" Lori asked, brows furrowed, obviously upset.

"Hershel said it's in the middle of a field, the only thing around for miles. Brand new. We need the supplies, winter's coming." Rick responded, glancing around but not looking at anyone.

I bit my lip. After the fiasco at Jed's I was conflicted. This trip might be a gold mine. Or it could be certain death. Regardless, Rick didn't want opinions, he had made the decision this was simply a formality to inform the group where they were going.

"Layla. Take a walk with me." Rick said, leaving the front desk area. Carol glanced at me with wide eyes and I shrugged.

In the parking lot, Rick was looking out over the endless fields, hands on his hips. I stood behind him, silent, wondering how to alert him to my presence.

"Whatcha think?" Rick said, not moving.

I inched around into Rick's eyesight and shrugged.

Rick sighed, "This is kinda your expertise…"

I nodded, feeling unprepared for this strategy powwow. I rummaged around in my pants pockets but remembered leaving my notebook in the lobby the night before. I gulped and waved my arms to get Rick's attention again. He cocked his head in my direction.

I pointed at myself and then at the gun on my hip and gave him a thumb's up. Then I pointed at myself and mimed shooting in the air and jogging in place and gave a thumb's down. I shrugged again and blushed profusely.

"I know… But what else're we supposed to do?" Rick asked, slowly walking back to the lobby.


End file.
